


The Only Love I've Ever Known

by weethreequarter



Series: Marvel Bingo 2019 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Afghanistan, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Army v Air Force Rivalry, Body Sharing, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Captain America AU, College, Enemies to Lovers, Families of Choice, First Kiss, First Time, Karaoke, Kidnapping, Lots of Abba references, M/M, Marriage, Marvel Bingo 2019, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Trauma, Military Families, Minor Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Paparazzi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to ABBA, Set in a different country, Show Business, Social Media, Surrogacy, assholes in love, past Tony Stark/Natasha Romanov - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-08-13 13:57:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weethreequarter/pseuds/weethreequarter
Summary: Bucky Barnes hates everything about that stupidCaptain Americashow, from it's stupidly cheesy theme song, to the fact that's it's obvious military propaganda, to it's blond, beautiful star, Steve Rogers. But when Rogers and his Pararescue team are stationed at the same base as Bucky's unit, Bucky might just discover there's more going on behind the camera than he could've predicted.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Total disclaimer: I am in no way military, so any faults here are totally my own. If there are any glaring errors, let me know. If it can be changed without affecting the story, I will do that, otherwise it's fiction and I'm going to use a little creative license. A lot of the military stuff in here comes from a combination of Bluestone 42 and the play Black Watch (both of which I entirely recommend) which means some of the military stuff might end up being more British than American, in which case we blame Falsworth's influence. 
> 
> Potentially spoilery warnings: lots and lots of swearing. Seriously. A lot. Discussions of military related violence, including kidnapping, torture, and lots of bombs. They're in the military, and spend part of the story deployed, so use your common sense. If you want more in depth spoilery warnings, my Tumblr link is at the bottom of every chapter, so come and chat. When the PTSD kicks in, there will be panic attacks and other related nastiness, so if that's a trigger for you, look out for the warnings. 
> 
> Finally: as I said, I'm not military. I have no connection to the military, other than my great grandfather in WW2. I am not particularly pro or anti military. Remember that anything a character says doesn't necessarily reflect my views (you'd think it goes without saying, but sadly it doesn't). 
> 
> Finally, finally: several chapters of this story are for squares on my Marvel Bingo card. They will be marked in the chapter summary.

_“We begin with devastating news from Afghanistan this evening. In the area known as the ‘triangle of death’, so it is believed to be for one US airman. Currently missing, the airman is missing, presumed dead, after his unit was ambushed. Four more are injured. The ambush was carefully planned. The unit’s helicopter was damaged by anti-aircraft weapons, before coming under fire from mortar bombs._

_“The wounded soldiers have been evacuated to Bagram Air Base for medical treatment, and are expected to be flown home in the next few days. _

_“We are led to believe that plans are in place to begin a search for the missing airman, however, it seems likely that this mission will be searching for a body.”_

** _CNN News, October 20th 2013_ **


	2. Why did it have to be you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is unimpressed with the arrival of celebrities in camp. In fact, unimpressed is probably an understatement. He deals with it by being a total bitch.
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - set in a different country**

**June 2009**

“Do you ever get the feeling someone’s trying to kill you?” Sharon asked.

“I’ve been to see the Dodgers play the Red Sox at Fenway Park so, yeah,” Bucky replied. He adjusted the strap of his rifle.

“Idiot,” Sharon rolled her eyes.

Bucky just grinned at her.

“Dernier! Car coming up the road!” Jones shouted, listening to the radio. Dernier threw him a thumbs up from where he was crouched over an IED, an IED he was - hopefully - in the process of dismantling.

“It’s coming pretty fast,” Bucky added, spying the battered old vehicle trundling down what passed for a road out here, in the ass-crack of nowhere, Afghanistan.

“Dugan will stop it,” Dernier replied.

Sharon and Bucky exchanged a glance.

“This’ll be good,” Bucky muttered, shifting his rifle just incase. “Dum Dum’s never going to make a crossing guard, is he?”

“He’s not slowing down,” Sharon observed.

“Dernier,” Bucky yelled.

“Not now!”

“Firing warning shots!” Falsworth shouted, and fired off two shots above the car. 

“Stop! Stop!” Dum Dum yelled, walking towards the car and waving his arms, before taking aim at the driver. To everyone’s palpable relief, the car finally slowed down as it approached. “Get out of the car! Hands in the air!”

The driver opened the door, and Dum Dum hauled him out of the vehicle. The driver babbled in Arabic, gesturing to his car.

“What’s he saying?” Bucky frowned.

“Oh, fuck,” Sharon hissed. “He says he has no handbrake!” she screamed.

Bucky’s eyes widened. The car continued to roll down the hill, towards Dernier and the still-active device.

“Dernier!”

Dernier legged it out of the way, yelling, “Down!”

Bucky threw himself into the grass, feeling the thump of Sharon landing beside him, mere seconds before the explosion rang out, shaking the ground and showering them with dust.

“Ah, shit,” Bucky muttered, clearing the dirt from his eyes, blinking furiously in an attempt to stop them from streaming. He could hear Jones on the radio, telling the base that the IED had exploded. Shifting up onto his elbows, Bucky scanned the area for threats.

Nothing.

“Clear,” he hollered.

X

They piled out of the wagon upon their return to base, and Phillips was standing waiting for them. Ostensibly to make sure they were all okay. Really, Bucky knew, to bollock them all for blowing up a perfectly good IED. 

“Did you get anything useful?” Phillips asked, after chewing them out.

“A sparkling recommendation on why Dugan should never become a crossing guard,” Bucky replied.

Phillips glared at him, but Bucky would bet good toothpaste that the corner of his mouth twitched, which for Phillips, was basically a full-belly laugh.

“Alright, you bunch of halfwits,” Phillips called. “Listen up. We’re getting company tonight.”

“What the fuck?” Bucky muttered.

“For a temporary posting, we’re getting… the Avengers.”

“Aw, shit, yes!” Dugan crowed, giving Jones a hi-five.

“Mint,” Falsworth agreed.

“Fuck, no,” Bucky groaned.

“I know, I know. It’s a pain,” Phillips held up his hands. “But they’re the military’s golden goose, so play nice and roll out the welcome waggon. Which means no fucking around and absolutely no genital lice racing again, d’you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused. 

“Good. Dismissed.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky growled as they trudged towards their quarters. 

“What’s your problem with the Avengers?” Sharon asked, nudging him with her elbow.

“You mean apart from the fact they call themselves the fucking Avengers?” Bucky retorted. “They’re not the Avengers, they’re the forty fourth rescue squadron. And they’re fucking air force.”

“And the fact that they’re on TV has _nothing_ to do with this irrational hatred on them, right?”

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Shut up, asshole.” Sharon smacked him on the back of the head.

“They get all that fucking glory, and all they’re doing is their jobs,” Bucky pointed out. “I don’t see anyone pointing a camera at us and giving us an Emmy for doing our jobs?”

“That’s because most of the time, watching bomb disposal would be fucking boring.”

“We literally blew a car up today. Well, Dum Dum did.”

“Go shower, yank that stick out of your arse, and come sing Abba with me tonight, yeah?” Sharon said, peeling off towards her own quarters which, thanks to her gender, she was able to have all to herself, with no one to keep her awake snoring in the middle of the night - Dugan - or to leave their smelly two day old socks on the floor - Falsworth.

Okay. Bucky was jealous.

“Yeah, alright,” he sighed. “Fucking Avengers.”

“And stop bitching!”

X

“What is this?” Sharon asked, scrunching up her nose as she sniffed at the meat on her tray, following Bucky through the tables to where the rest of their squad sat. “Is it ham?”

“Yes. They are serving us ham in a Muslim country,” Bucky retorted, snatching up two sets of cutlery for them both. He swung his legs over the bench, sitting down beside Jones and opposite Morita. He nodded to Morita in greeting.

“What is it then?” Sharon pressed.

“Goat,” Morita supplied.

Sharon looked unimpressed, but Bucky scooped up a forkful of the goat to shovel into his mouth.

“Nice,” he mumbled. “Aw, shit. Turn that crap off,” he complained, as the familiar yet no less awful strains of _The Star Spangled Man with a Plan_ sounded from Dum Dum’s laptop.

“No,” Falsworth replied.

“Just cause you have a stick up the arse about them, doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy _Captain America_,” Sharon pointed out, braving the goat. “Not bad.”

“If you don’t wanna eat it, give it to me. Goat’s fucking delicious,” Bucky said. “And even if I do have a stick up the ass - which I don’t - aren’t they supposed to be arriving soon? D’you really want their first impression to be that you are all sycophantic fanboys? Which you are, but you know. You could at least try to pretend otherwise.”

“Wow, that’s a big word, Barnes. Moved on to books with words as well as pictures now, have you?” Falsworth smirked.

“Fuck you. Fuck you with a cactus,” Bucky declared. “You wanna kiss their asses, go for it. But if you kiss ass, expect to get shit in the face.”

“They should embroider that on tea towels,” Sharon remarked. “They could do a whole range. _Bullshit, by Bucky Barnes_.”

“Better than that pretentious wank,” Bucky muttered, glowering at the laptop.

They all looked round at the sound of helicopter blades, cutting off whatever cutting and no doubt fabulous retort Falsworth had lined up, watching the Pave Hawk cut across the top of the base, hovering for a few seconds, before coming down on the landing pad at the far end of the base.

“Here we go,” Bucky muttered and Sharon kicked him in the shin. 

Despite all their teasing, Bucky noted that the laptop was quickly shut down, with no sign of that shitty TV show. Of course, then the gates opened and the stars themselves appeared, clad in DCUs and laden down with packs and weapons. Bucky eyed the Mk 21 PSR slung over the shoulder of one of them - _Hawkeye_, his mind supplied, and he hated that he knew that - with jealousy. It was a far cry from his own Mk 14 EBR, and as far as he knew, was not a standard issue for the Air Force. 

_Fucking Avengers_, he thought. _They got all the best toys, just because they were on TV._

When he tore his gaze away from the gun, they gravitated naturally to the man at the head of the squad, recognisable from his build as Captain America himself, Steven Grant Rogers. Bucky’s eyes scanned over him. He had a good ass, he would give Rogers that, but even Bucky wasn’t willing to overlook a shitty personality for a good ass. 

“Fuck them,” Bucky declared. “It’s Abba night. Come on!”

X

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dugan called, in what he thought was his best sport’s announcer voice, and what Falsworth said made him sound like he needed a shit. “Welcome to the 107th’s fourteenth weekly-“

“Fuck off! It’s the fifteenth,” Dernier yelled.

“Shut up, no it’s not,” Dugan growled. 

“Fucking is. Last week was the fourteenth.”

“And I’m telling you it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” Dernier, Bucky, Sharon and Falsworth chorused.

“Oh fuck you all. Barnes. Shaz. Get your asses onstage.”

Bucky and Sharon stood up to rapturous applause - or, more accurately, a smattering of applause and a chorus of wolf whistles and lewd comments from the Howlies. Bucky bowed with a theatricality his high school drama teacher would be proud of, taking Sharon’s hand and pretending to help her onto the home-made stage. He caught the two microphones from Morita, passed one to Sharon, and called, “Hit it, Jonesy.”

And the first notes of _Why did it have to be you?_ rang out from the third rate CD player they’d found in a flea market. Bucky moved in time to the music, lifting the microphone ready to start singing.

It was a feel-worn performance, but the camp loved it. Neither Bucky now Sharon were afraid to get a like dirty, grinding against each other fearlessly, safe in the knowledge that there was no interest on either side. Over time, they’d developed a dance routine - Abba night was a serious affair - and it was as they shimmied into each other’s person space that movement caught his eye. Bucky glanced into the audience, and spotted the newcomers.

The Avengers.

There was Rogers, front and centre, with his arms folded across his chest and a grin on his face. Hawkeye was on his right, clapping along and whooping loudly as they finished. 

Bucky shared a grin with Sharon, taking her hand and bowing to the crowd, before passing the microphones off to a couple of ANA officers who’d taken to joining in with Abba night. They edged through the crowd, sitting with the rest of the Howlies, and with them out of sight, Bucky was able to all but forget the Avengers. Sharon slung her arms around his neck, swaying them both in time to the music. They lip-synced along at times, sharing grins and winces at the worst of the off notes.

“Least they have passion,” Bucky called.

“They definitely have that,” Sharon agreed, and they burst out laughing.

X

“My dad’s still not speaking to me,” Dugan said, without looking up from his letter. 

“How d’you know?” Bucky frowned.

Dugan held up the paper so Bucky could see: it was blank. Bucky snorted, shaking his head and digging in to the parcel that had arrived with Nakia’s writing on it. He loved her, but damn that woman had an obsession with parcel tape. In the end, he gave up, and pulled out his knife to slit it open.

“Aw, shit, yeah!” he grinned. “I got jelly beans.”

“You’re gonna share though, right?” Falsworth frowned.

“Fuck no,” Bucky laughed.

“Morning,” Sharon chirped, sitting down beside Bucky. “What’ve you got?”

“Jelly beans. Want some?”

“Yes please.” Sharon held out her hands; Bucky poured out a generous helping, to a chorus of irritation from Dugan and Falsworth.

“Asshole,” Dugan muttered. “I’d say you two were fucking if it wasn’t for the fact that’s impossible.”

Bucky smirked at him, showing off all his teeth and waggling his eyebrows, before pouring jelly beans straight into his mouth. Which really pissed them off, until he almost choked on one and Sharon had to thump him on the back to dislodge it.

“Thanks,” he croaked. “Death by jelly bean would be a shitty way to go.”

“I dunno, it has it’s merits,” a voice said from behind.

Bucky, Sharon and Falsworth twisted to see the speaker, and Bucky fought a mixture of annoyance, surprise and awe.

_Hawkeye_.

“I mean, it’s a talking point to have that on your gravestone,” Hawkeye continued. “I think I like it: Senior Airman Clinton F Barton. Operation Southern Focus, Operation Red Dawn, Operation Enduring Freedom. Silver Star, Bronze Star, Purple Heart. Death by jelly bean.”

“Sounds about right for you, Barton,” a second voice called, a quick glance revealing another man helping himself to coffee.

_Falcon_, Bucky’s brain supplied, and dammit how had he picked this shit up when he didn’t even watch the goddamn show?

“I died as I lived,” Barton grinned. “Like an idiot.”

“Definitely you,” Falcon agreed. “Hi. I’m Wilson, this dumbass is Barton. Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Sharon smiled. “Carter, Barnes, Falsworth, Dugan.”

“Or, Shaz, Barnicle, Falsie, and Dum Dum,” Bucky added.

“I love it,” Barton declared, and seemed to take their introductions as some sort of invitation, muscling in between Bucky and Falsworth. Falcon, or Wilson, sat down opposite them.

“What’s your MOS? Wilson asked.

“EOD,” Falsworth replied.

“We’re the guys who stop shit from going bang so guys like you can run around playing hero,” Bucky added.

Wilson glared at him, and Bucky was pretty sure he’d just made an enemy for life. Not that he gave a shit. It wasn’t like he was ever going to see the Avengers again. 

“You’ll have to forgive him, he has a medical condition,” Sharon said, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm. He stared at her like she was crazy, but she ignored him, adding, “It’s called _I’m a little fucking bitch_ disease, and so far it’s terminal.”

Wilson snorted into his coffee, while Bucky stared at Sharon, wounded.

“I shared my jelly beans with you.”

“You’re a dick,” Barton declared, and for a second Bucky wondered if he’d pushed too far, but then he saw the barely contained glee on Barton’s face, and suspected he was safe. “I like you. I’m keeping you. Nat!” he hollered. “I’m adopting Barnes from EOD.”

“As long as you feed him and walk him, he’s all yours,” a female voice replied, the owner of the voice sitting down next to Wilson.

Of course, Bucky knew who she was. Even if she wasn’t the only woman in the Avengers, her distinctive red hair would’ve given it away instantly.

Natasha Romanoff.

Black Widow.

“Morning,” Romanoff nodded to Sharon.

“Wait. You two know each other?” Bucky frowned.

“No, dumbass. We’re the only two women on base,” Sharon sighed. “We’re bunking together.”

“Oh. Wait, was there a slumber party and I wasn’t invited? Because you know I have all the best nail polish colours.”

“I thought your nail polish got confiscated after the last time?”

“It was one time,” Bucky corrected. “And I have no regrets.”

“You probably should.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Good morning everyone.” The voice was booming, the accent some weird mix of America, Australian and English, and the owner was tall and blond and buff and accompanied by Rogers himself. Which meant, by process of elimination, he must be Thor, the final Avenger. “Such fine nourishment to start a fine day.”

“What the fuck?” Bucky exclaimed.

“He’s messing with you,” Barton said. “Sort of. He used to talk like that all the time, til we got him under control. It’s Thor.”

“Wait, his name’s really Thor?”

“Oh yeah. Thor Odinson. He grew up in some weird hippie common thing,” Barton explained, “Run by his father who’s known as the All-father. No shit. We went to visit once. It’s weird. He judges everyone on whether or not they’re worthy. And the only one who was worthy was this guy,” he said, jabbing his finger towards Rogers.

“I got a hammer,” Rogers nodded. 

“A hammer?” Bucky echoed, glancing between them. 

“Not like a normal hammer,” Rogers explained. “Big, square thing. I use it as a door stop. Or I leave it at my brother’s place when I wanna be a dick.” When Bucky frowned, he added, “It’s really heavy and he’s really small, and he gets really pissed that he can’t lift it.”

“It is hilarious to watch his angry Italian yelling,” Barton grinned. 

Bucky didn’t realise he was smiling until he caught Rogers grinning at him. It was easy, when they laughed and joked and acted like they were part of the squad, to forget that Rogers and his cronies were media hounds, giving the public a fairytale, spinning the PR web for the military and the government, while people like Bucky were slogging it out here, day after day, in the dust and the mud.

“I gotta go,” he announced abruptly, drawing the attention of the table, picking up his parcel and walking away.

He went to the roof of their quarters, where Phillips had built a barbecue and threw himself into one of the deck chairs that Sharon had repaired with half a roll of duck tape, pulling out Nakia's letter. He heard footsteps on the stairs, recognising them immediately as Sharon's.

“You disappeared pretty quick,” Sharon remarked, dropping into another deck chair.

Bucky shrugged, his eyes flickering over Nakia’s letter without taking any of it in. Sharon nudged him with the toe of her boot; when he raised his eyes to give her a half-hearted glare, she simply replied with an equally unimpressed look of her own.

Bucky sighed.

“I got fed up of listening to the chairforce,” he shrugged.

“Why do you hate them so much?”

“Because, because it’s not real,” he snapped. “That show, it’s not real. It’s a sanitised, white washed version of war. They always win, they always rescue the victim, they always save the day and that’s not how it works out. It’s just propaganda.”

“Maybe we could use some good propaganda,” Sharon shot back. “People aren’t exactly loving this war.”

“This isn’t war,” Bucky muttered. “This isn’t a fighting a good fight, fighting for our freedom. This is… This is bullying.”

“Some people would say bullying’s the fucking job,” Sharon shrugged.

“Yeah, well, sometimes the job fucking sucks,” he retorted. “This isn’t what I signed up for.”

“What did you sign up for?”

“Blowing shit up,” he lied. “You?”

“Shooting people. Free food. Annoying my parents.”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. He picked up his packet of jelly beans, offering it to Sharon. She smiled, taking a handful, recognising it as the apology it was. 

“Want to help me practise my new Abba routine?” Sharon offered, wiggling her eyebrows.

Bucky smiled, filled with a rush of warmth for her.

“Sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story behind Abba night: basically, I was working on this ages ago, and listening to the soundtrack to Mamma Mia 2 (the only good thing about that movie) and a couple of the songs worked their way into the story. You'll get the explanation of why they have Abba night in the next chapter.
> 
> Some of the dialogue in this chapter comes from episode 1 of Bluestones 42's second series. The conversation about bullying comes from the play Black Watch. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr at [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	3. Andante Andante

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky lashes out at Rogers, who has the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but Rogers continues to surprise Bucky. Sharon is bad ass.
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - Enemies to Lovers**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nonbinarytoni mentioned Clint letting Bucky use his gun, and then I couldn't stop picturing it, so that scene is for you!
> 
> SPOILERY WARNINGS: discussion of bombings of civilians; undiagnosed PTSD; more swearing, seriously, so much swearing.

**July 2009**

Bucky jumped out of the wagon and stormed across the compound, ignoring Sharon calling his name. He was so unbelievably furious, he didn’t want to be around anyone right now. He marched into one of the empty rooms in the building next to their quarters and launched his helmet into the wall. It slammed into the wall, rebounding and skittering across the floor, landing somewhere behind him. Bucky kicked the wall repeatedly, wishing, really wishing, that it was that smug asshole son of a bitch’s face he was kicking in.

“Hey-“

Bucky didn’t recognise the voice, didn’t even care who it was when he spun around and yelled, “Fuck off!” but he wouldn’t deny the small surge of satisfaction that burst in his chest when he recognised Rogers.

Rogers blinked at him, clearly unaccustomed to someone yelling at him like that.

“What happened?” he asked.

“None of your goddamn business, asshole,” Bucky spat. And part of him knew it was a bad idea to mouth of to a superior officer like this, even if he was only Air Force, but he was just so fucking furious.

Rogers held up his hands, like he was surrendering, and Bucky felt the urge to pick up his rifle and give him something to surrender to.

“I’m just trying to help.”

Bucky laughed, cold and bitterly, glaring at Rogers.

“Help? You wanna help? Alright, go do something fucking useful for a change and take your goddamn cameras and film what is left of a village six miles from here. Show what we’re really fucking doing over here.”

“The camera crew isn’t here on this deployment,” Rogers pointed out, his voice carefully neutral, and that just made Bucky hate him even more. How could he be so fucking calm in the face of Bucky’s fury? Actually, how _dare_ he be so fucking calm? “What village?” Rogers asked.

“I don’t fucking know what it’s called,” Bucky snapped. “A village, six miles south. Go see it. Oh wait, you can’t. Cause it’s not fucking there anymore!”

“What happened to it?”

“You remember those mortars two nights ago?” Bucky waited for Rogers to nod before continuing. “That was the Marines. They bombed the fuck out of this village because they got a tip off about insurgents or fucking Taliban or whatever. I mean, there is nothing left Rogers. Absolute fuck all. And you know what those assholes said? _There was no fucker there_. They bombed the shit out of women and children and old men and a bunch of fucking goats. You wanna show people what it’s really like over here? Go show them that.”

“Even if I had a camera crew, which I don’t,” Rogers replied, “OPSEC-“

“Yeah, yeah, you care more about being a good little boy following orders than telling people the fucking truth. That we’re all a bunch of fucking bullies, all trying to prove we’re the biggest, baddest asshole in the playground. It’s fucking pathetic.”

Rogers, showing previously uncharacteristic restraint, wisely said nothing. However his jaw was tight, and he avoided Bucky’s eyes. Bucky shook his head.

“Fucking pathetic,” he repeated, and he didn’t know if he was talking about Rogers or himself. About Rogers inability to show the world what they were really doing, or his own inability to tell that cocky little Marine shit to stop laughing because people were dead. Innocent people, dead because of them, because of all of them.

Rogers left without another word. Bucky watched him go, then turned and slammed his fist into the wall.

X

“Who’s that?” Bucky frowned, nodding to the Air Force brass saluting Phillips and fresh off of a AW139 that had landed next to the Avengers Pave Hawk.

“That’s Colonel Rhodes,” Sharon replied.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

Sharon rolled her eyes.

“You are useless,” she sighed. “He’s the Avengers CO. Would it kill you to read the news?”

“I read news,” Bucky retorted. “Just not entertainment or anything to do with here. I’m living it, I don’t need to read about it.”

“Remember that village the marines bombed last week?”

“How could I forget?”

“CNN got cell footage of it,” Sharon explained. Bucky gaped at her. “Anonymously, but the rumour is that it came from someone in the Avengers, because Rogers took his crew out for an unscheduled patrol the day before the footage emerged.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed. 

He wouldn’t. Rogers. He couldn’t have. Could he?

No.

That was ridiculous. Why would Steve Rogers risk disciplinary action all because of something Bucky Barnes bitched about? He wouldn’t. That would be… That would be…

Unbelievable. 

Bucky tried not to dwell on it during PT, but it was hard not to. Rationally, it could be anyone in the Avengers, and that was if it came from them in the first place, which remained unconfirmed. But even so, an unscheduled patrol certainly couldn’t happen without Rogers’ say so, which would mean he was involved somehow. Which was crazy. It was crazy. There was no way. No way.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, Bucky would begin to believe it. 

After his post-PT shower, Bucky headed over to the mess for coffee. He was standing in line, when he heard a voice say, “You’re a pain in my ass, Rogers. I knew I was asking for trouble when I let Tony convince me to take this post.”

Despite the words, the tone conveyed more resigned acceptance than anger. Bucky risked a glance over his shoulder, and spotted the Avengers sitting with Colonel Rhodes. Rogers was sitting opposite Rhodes, facing Bucky.

“I’m not gonna say sorry,” Rogers shrugged. He looked up, his eyes meeting Bucky’s. “I don’t like bullies. I don’t care who they are.”

Shit.

His words stole Bucky’s breath.

Forgetting all about his coffee, Bucky walked out of the mess as quickly as he could without raising suspicion. He returned to his quarters, sitting heavily on his bunk, leaning against his knees.

Holy shit.

_“You care more about being a good little boy following orders than telling people the fucking truth.”_

His own words rang in his ears, now strangely hollow and untrue. 

Bucky hated _Captain America & the Avengers_ because of how it portrayed the military. The false, propaganda facade that hid all the dark and nasty parts of combat, that only showed the Avengers’ successes, never the times they failed to bring someone home. 

But he’d never considered that maybe it wasn’t only the military that was white-washed. Until now.

Maybe Rogers and his team were too.

X

“Hey asshole,” Barton grinned, throwing himself down onto the bench next to Bucky. 

“Hey yourself,” Bucky replied. In the weeks since their arrival, Barton’s declaration that he was adopting Bucky had turned out, well, not that far off in all honesty. But it had resulted in Barton sharing the funions his kids sent over with him, so Bucky had quickly accepted his adoption, renounced his birth parents (again), and scarfed down two thirds of a bag on funions on his own with glee. 

“You busy?”

“Do I look busy?” Bucky retorted.

“I dunno. You think I know what busy looks like?”

“Dumbass,” Bucky rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not busy. Why?”

“Wanna play with my gun?”

Bucky eyed him speculatively. While he hadn’t specifically mentioned the fact that he was gay around the Avengers, it was far from a secret with the Howlies. And Barton wasn’t bad looking, but Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to potentially mess up his funion supply for a quickie behind the det. 

“Is that a euphemism?”

“No. You said you liked my rifle. I checked, the range is free, so if you wanna play with it, let’s go.”

Getting his hands on Clint’s Mk 21 PSR? _That_ was something Bucky was definitely interested in. He grinned.

“Lead on, Hawkass.”

X

“Fuck me, this is a nice gun,” Bucky declared, picking up the Remington Mk 21 Precision Sniper Rifle and weighing it in his hands. “Jesus, if you want to get in my pants, this is totally the way,” he added. “Fuck.”

“Noted,” Barton grinned. 

“Can I?” Bucky asked, nodding towards the targets.

“Knock yourself out. Actually, don’t literally know yourself out, because then Steve’ll make me do paperwork, and paperwork sucks worse than getting shot. Except when I get shot, he makes me do the paperwork then too, so I dunno. Paperwork sucks, so don’t literally knock yourself out, but metaphorically knock yourself out. You know, by having fun or whatever it means.”

“You’re weird,” Bucky informed him. “But you let me touch your gun, so I’d still blow you if you asked.”

“Awesome,” Barton grinned. 

Bucky stepped up, taking his time to work out the differences between his own gun and the PSR as he set it up for the first time. There was time for showing off later, but there would be no showing off if he fucked up now, and definitely not if he damaged Barton’s gun. Once the gun was ready, Bucky put his eye to the scope, pausing to adjust to the unusual weight of the gun and the feel in the trigger against his finger. 

He took a breath, then pulled the trigger.

Round after round when into the target. Sometimes, just for variety, Bucky switched from headshots to chest shots, adjusting the PSR until he found his favourite set up. When he finished the rounds and stepped back, Barton was grinning at him.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“How the fuck did fucking chair force get this before me?” Bucky shook his head.

Barton shrugged. 

“It helps when you have Tony Stark funding you.”

Right, of course. Because the Avengers first came to prominence for saving Stark’s life after he was kidnapped in Afghanistan a few years before. Bucky remembered now. They saved Stark’s life and got a TV show to say thank you. Personally, Bucky would rather have received the money, or even one of these PSRs, but apparently the Avengers were happy to be media sellouts. 

Bucky picked up the PSR again, enjoying one final moment of holding it, before handing it back to Barton. If it led to him getting to use bad ass guns like that though, maybe he’d consider being a media sellout too. 

“You coming to Abba night?” he asked, watching Barton pack up the PSR with uncharacteristic efficiency.

“Sure, why not?” Barton replied. “Hey, what’s the story with that anyway? I mean, not that I don’t love Abba, but?”

Bucky snorted. 

“One of my best friends sent me an Abba karaoke CD as a joke,” he explained. “She thinks she’s funny, but she’s really not. Anyway, Sharon and I started fucking around with it one night, then the rest of the Howlies joined in, then we decided _what the fuck_, and invited the rest of the base. It’s a laugh. Helps us forget where we are, what we’re doing.”

“Can anyone join in?”

“Sure.”

“So if Thor and I wanted to do a rousing rendition of _Does your mother know?_ we’d be in?” 

“Fuck yes, that’s something I wanna see.”

“Then you, my grumpy little friend, are in luck,” Barton declared, picking up the case with one hand and swing the other arm over Bucky’s shoulders. “You’re going to love it. We have a dance routine and everything. We’re very proud.”

It turned out, they had nothing to be proud of. But Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard, to the point where he was crying into Sharon’s shoulder, to the point where he found himself thinking that maybe - just _maybe_ \- the Avengers weren’t so bad.

X

“Not bad for chair force, huh?” Rogers grinned, looking far too smug, as they climbed out of the Pave Hawk.

“Meh,” Bucky shrugged. 

The Howlies had spent the morning as ‘casualties’ for the Avengers’ training exercise, which surmount to lying in the dirt for an hour, pretending to have a broken arm, until Rogers and his team showed up, repelled out of a helicopter and ‘saved’ them. 

It was actually pretty impressive. But Bucky would never admit that to them. Not when the reputation of the Army was at stake. Like fuck he was going to let the Air Force think they were actually not bad at something.

Best of all, he’d had a perfect view of Rogers’ ass as he repelled out of the helicopter.

“Oh, come on!” Wilson called.

“Hey, don’t blame us,” Sharon shrugged. “It’s easy for you to look impressive when we’re on our asses. The trick is for you to look even half as good as us when we’re doing something.”

“Is that a challenge? That sounds like a challenge,” Barton interjected.

Sharon and Bucky exchanged a nod.

“You in?” Sharon asked Rogers.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Beep test. Carrying two full jerry cans each. Last team standing.”

“What’s the prize?” Wilson asked. “I mean, glory for the air force is all well and good, but it’s not something I can carry about and lord over you assholes either.”

“I’ll donate my final bag of jelly beans,” Bucky offered.

“And my last bag of funions,” Barton added.

“Sound good?” Sharon asked.

“Deal,” Rogers agreed.

Sharon spat on her hand and offered it to him, wriggling her fingers. Rogers didn’t flinch. He spat on his own hand, and shook it, to a chorus of crowing from both the Howlies and the Avengers.

“Twenty minutes?” Sharon suggested.

“See you then. Losers,” Rogers smirked.

“Oh no, he did not!” Bucky shouted. 

They rushed through getting out of their gear, Dugan and Jones finishing first, so they were sent to procure four jerry cans and set up the arena for combat. 

“There’s only five of them and seven of us, so who’s sitting out?” Bucky asked. 

Sharon eyed them critically, and they all waited for her decision, happy to bow to her decision.

“Alright, Bucky, Falsie, Dum Dum, and Jonesy: you’re up,” she called. “Moritia and Dernier, you’re our back up.”

“Yes boss,” they chorused. 

The Avengers emerged from their quarters, and Bucky’s gaze instantly went to Rogers in a skin tight t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Bucky allowed himself a minute to drink in the truly fabulous sight of Rogers’ abs, then grinned to himself. As the Avengers approached, Bucky stepped forward, hooking his hands under the bottom of his own shirt and peeling it off, his dog tags jangling against his chest. While he might not be as bulked up as Rogers, Bucky was under no illusions; he looked _good_, and he had the confidence to own it.

Barton catcalled and Bucky spread his arms.

“You had your chance, Hawkass.”

Barton threw back his head as he laughed. Turning to Sharon, Bucky murmured, “Tie up your shirt.” When she levelled a look at him, he rolled his eyes and added, “They can’t all be in the closet, at least some of them’s gotta be straight. Or a lesbian. Tie up your shirt.”

Sharon sighed, but she untucked her t-shirt, knotting it under her bra line, and revealing her fucking incredible abs. If he was straight, Bucky would’ve married her the first time he saw those abs, because they were a work of art. 

“Holy shit!” Wilson exclaimed.

“Eyes back in your head, flyboy,” Bucky called, and Wilson flipped him off. 

“Alright, huddle up!” Sharon shouted. The Howlies made a circle around her. “Bucky, I want you against Rogers. He’s bigger but you're fast as shit.”

“Hell yes I am,” Bucky agreed.

“Dum Dum, you’re against Thor. You’re pretty evenly matched. Jonesy, Barton. Falsie, Romanoff. And I’ll take Wilson.”

“You’ll eat him for breakfast,” Dugan pointed out.

Sharon looked smug.

“Exactly.”

They lined up opposite their respective opponents, with Sharon and Wilson taking the lead, while Moritia and Dernier climbed onto the hood of a nearby jeep to watch and shout encouragement and heckle.

“Ready?” Morita yelled. “And… go!”

Sharon burst away from the line with speed that had the Avengers swearing loudly and Bucky calling like a madman, as if the jury cans weighed nothing. She might look petite, but Sharon was the toughest bad ass he knew, and could outpace any of them in the gym or PT. 

“You’re going down,” he called across to Rogers.

“You wish.” 

When Sharon returned to the start, Wilson had barely been his return journey. She handed the cans off to Dugan, giving him a head start against Thor. But Thor wasn’t just brawny, he was fast it appeared, easily catching up with Dugan, so that by the time they finished, they were neck and neck. Romanoff and Falsworth vied for the lead, overtaking and falling behind only to overtake again, until Falsworth put on a burst of speed in the final few metres, to hand over to Jones before Romanoff could reach Barton. Barton was faster than he looked though, which meant that Steve and Bucky were neck and neck as they took off. 

Bucky shot away from the line, but a blur of motion as his side revealed that Rogers was right with him. As they turned, Bucky narrowed his eyes at him, Rogers did the same, and it was a declaration of war.

It was fucking fantastic.

Jones was the first to cry out, followed in the next round by Wilson, who glared at Sharon and shouted, “She’s not fucking human.”

Barton went next, collapsing face first into the dust, then Dugan, and then Thor. Falsworth gave a valiant effort, before admitting defeat, leaving Sharon against Romanoff, and Bucky against Rogers.

“Okay, this is just boring now,” Barton called after ten minutes. “You’re all fucking freaky.”

“Tie break?” Sharon suggested.

“Agreed,” Rogers nodded.

An idea struck Bucky, and he barely managed to contain his grin. It was perfect, it was sneaky, and they’d never see it coming.

“Push ups,” he said. “Whoever can do the most in a minute. One person from each team. Two spotters, one Avenger, one Howlie, to make sure there’s no cheating.”

“Steve, you’re up,” Wilson said.

“You’re going to regret this,” Rogers informed Bucky.

“I don’t think I will,” Bucky replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. “Since I’m not the one you’re facing off. Kick his ass, Shaz.”

“Oh shit,” Wilson muttered.

Sharon and Rogers dropped into position, ready to go, while Bucky and Romanoff spotted Sharon, and Falsworth and Wilson took Rogers. Barton pulled out his phone, with Jones looking over his shoulder, to use as a stopwatch.

“Three, two, one, go!”

Bucky grinned as Sharon pushed off, counting in time with Romanoff. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Rogers making a good effort, but he had no chance against Sharon.

“And… stop!” Barton yelled.

Rogers dropped onto his stomach, sitting back on his knees, but Bucky and Romanoff continued to count, because Sharon was still going, without showing any sign of tiredness.

“Seriously man? How the fuck is she doing that?” Wilson asked.

“I don’t know, but I think I wanna have her babies,” Barton replied. 

Sharon finally stopped when she hit two hundred and fifty, bouncing nimbly onto her feet to shoot Rogers a cocky grin.

“So who won?”

“By a frankly fucking incredible one hundred and two to ninety,” Romanoff called, “The winner is… the Army!”

The Howlies cheered, descending on Sharon to congratulate her. Dugan turned to the Avengers to flip them off with both hands.

“I’m sorry flyboy, what did you say about going down?” Bucky teased.

“Fuck you, Barnes. Fuck you,” Rogers shook his head, lifting the edge of his shirt to wipe his forehead.

“No one likes a sore loser,” Bucky laughed. “Man, I haven’t had this much fun since I got arrested for wailing on those terfs at Pride last year.”

“That was you?” Rogers exclaimed.

Bucky whirled around.

“You were there?”

“Are you kidding? We had to sit on him to stop him from joining in,” Barton exclaimed. 

“You should’ve, it was a good fight,” Bucky grinned. “Totally worth the warning and the broken nose.”

“Oh God, there’s two of them,” Wilson groaned. 

Bucky flipped him off, then he and Falsworth hefted Sharon up onto their shoulders, to carry her through camp in a victory parade. 

“See you at Abba night,” he yelled over his shoulder.

X

“Ladies and gents, welcome to the twenty-first weekly Abba night,” Bucky announced into the microphone. “But first, we’re gonna take a departure from Abba, for one special number, dedicated not only to our friends, the Avengers, but to all Air Force personnel. A number from the legends that are Queen, and our Lord and saviour, Freddie Mercury. Let’s do this boys,” he said to Falsworth, Morita and Dernier, who’d joined him onstage.

Turning back to the audience, Bucky searched the crowd until he found Rogers’ amused expression, grinning gleefully at him and cackling at he saw Rogers recognise the song. He threw his head back and laughed, praising his ability to read lips, when he saw Rogers say, “Oh, fuck off.”

“I’ve paid my dues,” Bucky sang. “Time after time. I’ve served my sentence, but committed no crime. And bad mistakes, I’ve made a few. I had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I never loose.”

“We are the champions, my friend,” the four of them belted out, to riotous applause. “And we’ll keep on fighting til the end. We are the champions, we are the champions. No time for losers, cause we are the champions… of the world.”

The crowd went wild, the story of how Sharon had left Rogers in the dust having spread through the base like wildfire, growing out the Avengers’ good-natured booing, until they gave up. Barton and Thor pulled out their lighters, swaying back and forth with the raised above their heads, and Bucky blew them a kiss between choruses. When they finished, everyone jumped to their feet and applauded, whistling and cheering as Bucky, Falsworth, Dernier and Morita took their bows. 

Bucky handed his microphone off to Dugan for his well-worn, but no less loved, duet of _When I Kissed the Teacher_ with Morita, jumping off of the stage and navigating his way through the crowd until he dropped onto the bench next to Rogers.

“What did you think?” he grinned.

“I think you’re a fucking dick,” Rogers retorted.

“No one likes a sore loser,” Bucky informed him, nudging Rogers with his knee. Rogers pushed back, and they spent a minute hitting each other with their knees and grinning like lunatics until Romanoff glared at them from Rogers’ other side. They froze, like a pair of naughty schoolboys, smirking at each other until they burst out laughing.

They managed to get themselves under control while Dugan and Morita left the stage for Sharon to do her double number. Halfway through _SOS_, Bucky became aware of the heat of Rogers’ leg pressed against his. Their elbows were brushing too, he now realised. 

And now that he was aware of the contact, Bucky was unaware of anything else.

He stared at their legs, touching from knee to hip, and it shouldn’t be so weird, only that wasn’t right, because it wasn’t weird, it was natural, and that was what was weird. Bucky glanced at Rogers, then back to their legs. When he glanced up again, Rogers was staring at him, and now Bucky couldn’t look away.

His breath hitched. He felt shaky, like he’d gone one too many rides on the Cyclone in Coney Island, which was insane because he was just sitting there. Bucky swallowed.

He was aware, vaguely, in a distant sort of way, of the applause, then he heard the next song start._ Andante Andante_, his mind supplied. He’d helped Sharon choreograph the routine, but Bucky couldn’t have watched it, even if someone held a gun to his head. 

Then Rogers took his hand, and Bucky’s world stopped.

He stood up, tugging Rogers up with him, and they edged out from the bench, walking away as unobtrusively as possible. Bucky dropped Rogers’ hand, not because he wanted to, but because he felt he had to. But he could feel Rogers’ presence at his back the entire time, every step across the compound, until he stepped into an empty room, the same one he’d called Rogers’ pathetic in, and it seemed so long ago now. He kept walking until he was all but at the far wall, turning around and Rogers was there.

Leaning his hands on either side of Bucky’s shoulders, Rogers leaned in, until only a breath separated them.

“Barnes,” he whispered.

“Bucky.”

Rogers nodded.

“Steve,” he said.

“Steve,” Bucky echoed.

He raised a hand, placing it on Rogers’ collarbone and sliding it upwards, up over his shoulder, onto his neck, until he was cupping the base of his skull. 

Later, Bucky couldn’t have said which one of them moved first, all he knew was one minute they were frozen, Sharon’s voice reaching them from across the base, and the next they were kissing, mouths moving together hungrily as they drank each other in. Bucky groaned, and the sound seemed to spur Steve on; he dragged Bucky into him, and that was just perfect, definitely, perfect.

“Steve,” Bucky whispered, mouthing his way down Steve’s neck, biting and licking the skin, careful not to leave any marks. 

“Fuck,” Steve gasped. “Bucky. Bucky, please.”

Fingertips drifted over his cheek, a strangely gentle motion compared to the way both of them are clutching at each other, and Bucky’s hips jerked forward involuntarily, causing them both to groan. Bucky kissed Steve again, biting down on his lower lip, and it made Steve gasp, pulling back a scant few inches to blink at him, wide eyed and beautiful and Bucky can’t think of a reason why not to tell him so.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You so fucking beautiful, God.”

And then they were kissing again, needy and breathless, but Bucky didn’t care, he didn’t care if never breathed again, not if it meant he was kissing Steve. Then Steve’s hands cupped his ass, pressing them together from chest to knee, and he was hard and Steve was hard, and there was no way they were stopping.

“Yes,” Bucky murmured as Steve’s hands danced across his belt, pulling but not removing it, asking a silent question. “Fuck, yes, anything.”

It was quick and fast, but considering where they were and the fact that anyone could walk in on them at any time, that was all it could ever be. But that didn’t stop it from being some of the best sex of Bucky’s life, and how fucking pathetic was that? A quick hand job in an abandoned building in the middle of a fucking war zone, and it was somehow all he’d ever wanted and more.

And that was when the awkwardness settled in. They had to move away to clean themselves up. Just because Phillips was okay with overlooking the whole don’t ask don’t tell shit did not mean that it was a good idea to broadcast the fact that they’d just had sex. Bucky could feel Steve pull away, and maybe this didn’t mean anything to him. Maybe Bucky was reading too much into this. Steve threw him an awkward glance, then turned towards the door and Bucky had to know.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he blurted out.

No way Steve would stay for that if this was just a way of getting off.

Steve stopped. Bucky’s heart skipped. Steve turned, raising an eyebrow, a cautiously optimistic expression on his face.

Bucky grinned, and relief flooded Steve’s features.

“I fucking hate Abba,” Bucky announced.

Steve blinked.

Then he threw back his head as he burst out laughing, stumbling across the room and into Bucky’s arms, and between peals of laughter, he kissed him. Bucky joined in, with the laughing and the kissing, winding his fingers into Steve’s hair.

“Seriously?”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Steve promised, and sealed it with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through so many different versions, before I ended up with this one. There is one outtake that I'm going to post at some point over on Tumblr, because I loved it, even though I decided to cut it. It was much angstier, and I wanted to give them something happy before the next chapter.
> 
> Rhodey has known Steve since he was eighteen and Steve was fourteen, through Tony. When Tony was kidnapped, Rhodey went to Steve and they basically went off to find him on their own, and the rest of the Avengers followed. Then Tony convinced him to take the promotion to be the Avengers' CO. Rhodey sees Steve as a little brother.
> 
> The beep test scene with Sharon kicking their butts is inspired by a scene in Bluestone 42, where the new female CO leaves them all in the dust. It's not a proper beep test, but that's because they are a bunch of cheaters. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	4. I want to break free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve rescues people. So why hasn't he rescued Bucky?
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - medical setting**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've put a spoilery summary in the end notes. I'd recommend checking it out if you're uncertain because most of the Bad Stuff happens in this chapter.

**October 2009**

Steve was looking down at him, a soft, gentle smile on his face, a loose strand of blond hair falling onto his forehead. Bucky wanted to lift his arm and brush it away, but it hurt, everything hurt.

“Buck,” Steve whispered.

“Steve,” he groaned, quietly, incase they heard him. They couldn’t hear him. That would be bad.

“Hey, Buck. Bucky. It’s okay,” Steve assured him, and Bucky had to believe him, wanted desperately to believe him, because this was Steve. Steve wouldn’t lie. Fuck, where was Steve? Steve rescued people, didn’t he? Why wasn’t he here, rescuing Bucky?

“You gotta rescue me,” Bucky whispered. “Please, Steve.”

“I know. I know. It’s okay,” Steve promised.

Bucky closed his eyes and he was running in the back garden in Indiana, at home. 

No.

Not home.

Not anymore.

But Bucky was twelve, so it was home then, but it wasn’t home now, and that was confusing, it should be confusing, but Bucky wan’t confused, not really, except that he was and he didn’t understand. But he was twelve and he was running around the garden, shrieking with laughter because May found out that he stole her lipstick and she’s yelling at him “Give it back, you asshole! I’m gonna kill you!”

But Bucky just laughed and laughed until a hand slapped his face, the palm hitting his skin with an echoing crack and a man was leaning over him, glowering and his breath smelled, it smelled of, of… something. Bucky knew what it was, but he couldn’t place it.

“Silence,” the man hissed, and what did his breath smell like? He knew what it was, he knew, but he couldn’t think and then Steve was there, and he said, “It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay. Don’t worry,” and Bucky fell asleep.

X

He was hot. 

He was hot and he was cold and he couldn’t stop sweating and he was shaking and he wanted to go home, he wanted to go home even though he didn’t know where the fuck home was anymore, because he couldn’t go home home, because he wasn’t allowed to go home home, not now, not after all this, but he wanted to go home, even though he didn’t know where that was, and everything _hurt_. 

Why did it hurt?

He was crying, he could feel it on his face and it was cold against his skin, which was hot, but he was cold, and he was shaking and he wanted to stop shaking. He wanted to feel normal and why couldn’t he stop shaking? Why did it hurt? His brain hurt, it hurt to think, and that made him cry harder, but crying hurt too, which made him cry harder, but crying hurt too, which made him cry harder, but-

“Shh. Shh, Bucky, it’s okay,” Steve murmured. “It’s okay.”

“Steve,” he gasped.

“Fuck,” Steve gasped. “Bucky. Bucky, please.”

And Steve’s hands were all over him and he was pressing their hips together, and no, that wasn’t right, that wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to be held, but then Steve was gone again and he cried hardest of all because he was alone and hot and shaking and cold and it _hurt_.

X

Something touched his arm, and Bucky woke up and he was screaming. He screamed and he screamed and he screamed, and his throat was raw and he was thirsty, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a drink, but he couldn’t stop screaming because he’d never felt pain like that and _oh God_, why were they still touching his arm, why wouldn’t they stop, and he couldn’t stop screaming. 

And Indy was on the ground beside her bike and she was screaming and Bucky crouched down beside her and tried to give her a hug, but she kept screaming until his dad came. And then his dad was bundling Indy into the car to take her to hospital, but she decided she wanted Bucky to come too, so he went. And then the hospital, and there was a doctor and he was talking to their dad and Bucky didn’t understand because he looked at dad suspiciously and he said, “She’s not your daughter?” to dad which didn’t make sense because of course Indy was dad’s daughter, she was Bucky’s sister, so how could she not be dad’s daughter, that didn’t make sense. But then they were at home and mom was yelling at dad, and then she was yelling at Bucky and Bucky was eighteen and she didn’t want him to join the army because, “You know what they did to me! How can you do this?” And Bucky points and the TV and screams, “Look what they did mom! I’m not just gonna sit here and do nothing!” and there’s a plane, two planes, and they’re crashing and he’s falling, falling, falling and then he hits the ground and falls unconscious and the last thing he feels is relief because it doesn’t hurt anymore.

X

He was asleep, and that was good, because sleep didn’t come easy these days. He didn’t know how long he’d been there, or even where there was; all he knew was it wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

Someone was shaking at his shoulder, and Bucky blinked, then he smiled.

“Steve,” he slurred.

“Bucky. Bucky, wake up. Come on, eyes open. Bucky. Bucky!”

“Shh,” Bucky told him. Steve was usually quieter. He knew better than to be loud. Being loud meant they would come, and when they came, everything hurt.

“Bucky, come on. It’s time to go,” Steve said, shaking him again. Then he turned and yelled, “Thor! Gimme a hand!”

Then Steve was lifting him, shifting him until he was sitting up, and Bucky’s head swam. He wanted to lie down, but Steve looking scared, and Bucky guessed that wherever they were going, it must be urgent. He didn’t care. He kept his eyes on Steve’s face, because Steve didn’t usually stay for long, and he wanted to memorise his face, because he was terrified that the longer he was in here, where here was, he would forget Steve’s face. Strong arms wrapped around him from either side, and then they were moving.

Bucky tried to keep looking at Steve, but the motion made his head hurt and his stomach roll. He felt flushed, like that time he got the flu from Sally Peterson in third grade. Rolling his head onto Steve’s shoulder, Bucky murmured, “I’m gonna sleep.”

“Okay Buck. Okay. Go to sleep,” Steve murmured. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

X

Something was beeping and it was irritating. It wasn’t an alarm, the noise was too infrequent for that. Bucky crunched up his face, before opening his eyes, blinking blearily until his vision cleared. 

The source of the beeping quickly became apparent. He was in hospital. Somewhere. Glancing out of the window, it was grey and sleet was hitting the window, so he was going to put money on it not being Afghanistan. Then he turned to his left and spotted Steve, curled up in a chair, which was impressive, considering how big Steve was, with a book.

“Hey,” Bucky croaked.

Steve’s head snapped up.

“Hey you,” Steve whispered. “Good to see you.”

“Where ‘m I?”

“Germany. Landstuhl,” Steve replied. “Hang on, I’ll get you some water.”

Bucky nodded gratefully. His throat felt like sandpaper. He watched Steve uncurl himself from the chair and pour out a cup of water, dropping a straw into it and holding it steady so Bucky could drink.

“Thanks,” he wheezed. “What happened?”

“What do you remember?”

“I don’t know. Flashes. It’s all disjointed and muddled. Like one minute, I remember you, and then I’m twelve and back in Indiana, so I dunno.”

“You guys were on patrol when you were attacked,” Steve explained. “We were sent out after you, but it was too late. Taliban had already taken you away. God, Bucky you were gone for weeks.”

“I’m okay,” Bucky assured him, reaching for Steve’s hand where it sat on the edge of the bed. He frowned. “Why can’t I feel your hand?”

Steve’s face fell.

“Bucky, wait.”

He looked down, and for a moment, he couldn’t understand what he was looking at. Because there was his shoulder, underneath the gown he was dressed in, and his upper arm was sticking out from the bottom of the sleeve. But above where his elbow should be, it just… stopped. His arm just stopped. Which didn’t make sense.

Then it hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

Bucky gasped.

“My arm. Steve, my arm. Where’s the rest of my arm? Steve. Steve.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Steve assured him. Bucky tried to reach for him, then gasped, as he realised that he couldn’t reach for Steve, because he didn’t have a fucking hand. He reached with his right hand, flushed with relief when his hand made contact with Steve’s strong and solid beneath his palm. “I should call the doctor,” Steve said, moving to pull away.

“No,” Bucky shook his head, gripping tightly. “No, please. Just, you tell me. Please?”

“Okay. Okay, Buck,” Steve nodded, sitting back down. “Okay.

“Your arm was messed up when we found you. It was… it was bad, Buck. And it was infected. You were delirious, and the smell, Jesus, your arm, it smelled awful. There was nothing they could do. The doctors weren’t even sure if you’d come through, the infection was that bad. I thought I was going to lose you,” he admitted.

“Wait, how are you in Germany?” Bucky realised. There was no way the army or the air force was going to let Steve go with him to Germany just because. Not even Captain America held that influence. “Shouldn’t you be at the base?”

“Actually, my tour’s up,” Steve shrugged. “I’m supposed to be at home, but I’d rather be here.”

“Why?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone,” Steve pointed out, as if it was obvious. “What was it you said about your friends? Til the end of the line?”

A lump formed in Bucky’s throat. Maybe it was obvious. God, everything had changed. Even before he’d seen his arm, part of him had known that it had changed. As the pieces began to fit together in his mind, Bucky was increasingly grateful that Steve had stayed with him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I saw you, you know. When I was there.” Steve reared back in shock, but he didn’t let go of Bucky’s hand. “You’d be there sometimes, and you’d always tell me that it was okay, that I’d be okay. It helped.”

“You are going to be okay,” Steve murmured. “I promise.”

Bucky nodded, watching Steve’s thumb drift back and forth across his knuckles. Part of him knew it was a bad idea to be sitting like that, so openly, where anyone could walk in on them, but he needed Steve. He needed the comfort he provided. 

“I should get the doctors. They’ll want to know you’re awake,” Steve said eventually.

As much as he hated to let go, Bucky nodded in agreement, releasing Steve’s hand, so he could leave the room.

X

The following days were a blur of doctors and tests and scans, and in between, quiet moments with Steve. They received some curious looks, but no one asked any questions, probably due to Steve’s fame. No one wanted to disappoint Captain America. For the first time, Bucky was grateful for the respect Steve commanded, even if he was disappointed that he couldn’t touch Steve more. 

“I got you a new phone,” Steve announced one afternoon, placing the small white box onto the table.

“Steve, that’s the latest iPhone,” Bucky blinked. “I can’t afford that.”

“I can,” Steve shrugged. “Thought you might need to contact your family. The army will have let them know.”

“No they won’t,” Bucky corrected. “They’re not listed as next of kin. My best friend is.”

Removing the lid from the box was difficult with one hand, but Bucky was quickly discovering that most things were difficult with one hand. He grimaced, and could see Steve watching carefully out of the corner of his eye, but he made no move to intervene, for which Bucky loved him a little bit. 

It wasn’t like his arm would grow back. He needed to learn how to be independent.

“Sim card’s already in it,” Steve added offhandedly, once Bucky had removed the box, and Bucky didn’t even care that technically Steve had helped him out, because getting a sim card in was a pain in the ass with two hands, never mind one. 

“Thanks,” Bucky smiled. 

He ran through the set up, glaring at the screen as he took three times as long to type in his email and password in order to get his contacts from his old phone.

“What time is it in New York?” he asked.

Steve flicked up his wrist to look at his watch.

“Ten in the morning.”

Good. Bucky scrolled through his contacts until he found Jessica’s name and hit call. 

“So on a scale of one to ten, how bad do I look?" he asked conversationally, as the phone rang.

“Considering you were held captive by terrorists for nearly four weeks, you look fine,” Steve rolled his eyes, kicking his feet up onto the bed so he could nudge Bucky’s ankle.

Bucky opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by a, “Bucky Barnes, you fucking asshole!” from his phone.

“Hey Jess,” he grinned.

“Don’t _hey Jess_ me, dickwad,” she snapped. “I thought you were dead.”

“I got better?”

“Buck,” Steve shook his head.

“Seriously, where are you? Are you okay? How you could do this?”

“I’m in Germany, I’m… as okay as can be expected. And don’t blame me, I’m ‘armless,” Bucky smirked, chuckling at his own joke.

“That’s not funny,” Steve winced.

“Shut up, it is,” Bucky retorted.

“Who’s that?” Jess asked.

“Steve. He’s… a friend,” Bucky explained. “I uh, I lot part of my arm. It was pretty badly infected, so…”

“Shit,” Jess breathed. “So you’re coming home then?”

“Guess so,” Bucky nodded, even though he didn’t really have a home to go to, considering he’d lived in base housing since he was eighteen. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Me? I’m fine, except for the fact my asshole best friend got himself kidnapped and lost [art of his arm, because he’s a dick.”

“Thanks Jess. Your sympathy is appreciated. Is Dani okay?”

“She’s fine. I haven’t really told her what’s going on. I didn’t want to scare her.”

“Yeah. Sorry. You spoken to Nakia lately?”

“She’s down in Washington right now. She’ll be back before Christmas. Will you be back for Christmas?”

“I dunno. Will I be back for Christmas?” Bucky asked Steve.

“That’s the plan,” Steve nodded.

“Apparently there’s a plan,” Bucky told Jess. “You’d think since the plan involves me, they’d tell me the plan, but apparently not.”

“She’s right, you are a dickwad,” Steve remarked, poking Bucky’s ankle again.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Bucky retorted, fighting a yawn. 

“Hey, I gotta go. I have a client coming in,” Jess said, and Bucky felt immeasurably grateful, because even doing something as simple as talking on the phone left him exhausted these days. “Take care of yourself, and don’t go losing any more limbs, yeah? One’s okay, but more than that is just careless.”

Bucky howled with laughter, while Steve shook his head and muttered, “Jesus Christ…”

“See you soon, Jess,” Bucky promised.

“Yeah, you better, asshole. Love you,” she admitted.

“Love you too,” Bucky echoed, before hanging up.

He tried to put his phone down on the table, fighting to keep his eyes open, then felt Steve’s hand wrap around his own, taking the phone from him.

“Go to sleep, Buck.”

“Yeah, good plan,” he slurred. “Night Steve.”

“Good night Bucky.”

X

By the time the doctors decided he was fit to fly, the paperwork for Bucky’s medical retirement had all but gone through. Steve stayed with him the entire time, and Bucky couldn’t wait until they were out of there, so he could kiss him and thank him properly for sticking by his side. Jess couldn’t fly out, not with Dani at school, and Nakia couldn’t get the time off work, so without Steve, he would’ve gone through al the tests and discussions about physical therapy alone.

When the day came, Bucky grumbled about being made to use a wheelchair until he left the hospital, despite the fact both he and Steve and the nurse who insisted on the chair knew it was all for show. At the front door, Steve helped him into a taxi and they took off.

At Ramstein Air Base, Bucky stared in confusion at the plane that sat, looking so very, very out of place in the middle of a military air base. His confusion only grew when Steve led him towards it.

“Steve, that’s a fucking Learjet.”

“It’s a Gulf Stream, actually,” Steve corrected. “It’s my brother’s. Unless you wanted to take a cargo plane home?”

“Your brother has a Gulf Stream.”

“Technically, it’s the company’s. And technically that means I have as much right to use it as he does,” Steve explained, helping Bucky up the steps, “But I rarely use it. Thought you could use a comfortable ride though.”

“This is fucking insane,” Bucky informed him. “But, uh, thanks.”

“No problem,” Steve smiled. “I’ll go tell the pilot we’re ready to go.”

Once they were in the air, Bucky turned to Steve.

“So, you’re rich rich, huh?”

“My foster family is rich,” Steve corrected. “My mom had nothing, which meant when she died, I had nothing. But then I got fostered, and that was… a serious mindfuck. Because I went from having nothing to being part of one of the richest families in America. Which is why I know for sure that money does not buy happiness. My foster parents were… distant. Not a lot of love shown in that house. They believed that was the kind of thing you didn’t talk about, completely forgetting that they had two kids in the house, and that kids need to be shown love.”

“That’s why you and your brother are close, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiled. “He’s an asshole, but I love him.” Steve paused. “And you? Do you have family? Back in the hospital, you said…”

“We don’t talk,” Bucky shrugged. “I have four sisters, but I haven’t seen or heard from any of them in eight years. Mom didn’t agree with me joining the army.”

“And they all stopped talking to you?”

“It was more complicated than that.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “Hey, you wanna get some sleep?”

“Yeah,” Bucky admitted. “Sorry, I’m a cheap date right now.”

“Hey, you’re on a Gulf Stream, so you’re not that cheap,” Steve teased.

Bucky snorted, drifting off with a smile on his face. 

He slept on an off during the flight, waking up occasionally and looking for Steve, settling down again when he spotted him across the aisle, usually with a book in his hand or working on a laptop. Twice Steve woke him to eat, and Bucky had to wonder if there was an actual chef somewhere onboard, because the food on his plate was a far cry from the usual reheated mush you received on a plane. 

When Bucky woke for the final time, they were about forty minutes out from Teterboro. He reached across the aisle, winding his fingers with Steve’s; Steve smiled, without looking up from whatever he was reading on his laptop. 

“Wait,” Bucky frowned as something struck him. “Where are we going when we get to New York? I don’t have a place. I’ve lived on base since I joined the army.”

“You can stay with me. For as long as you like,” Steve replied, in a tone that was far too casual to actually genuinely be casual.

“You asking me to move in with you, Rogers?” Bucky teased.

“Yes,” Steve replied seriously, meeting Bucky’s gaze. “Look, I know we haven’t been together for long, and we haven’t been able to do a lot of thing because of where we were. But, damn, Bucky when you were gone. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in all my life. I’d like to wake up in the morning and know you’re safe with me.”

Bucky fought his smile, raising their joined hands and kissing the back of Steve’s knuckles. 

“I love you too, dumbass,” he said, reading between the lines of Steve’s words.

A smile blossomed across Steve’s face. He ducked his head, squeezing Bucky’s hand, and for the rest of the flight, Bucky sat and watched him with what he knew must be a dopey smile on his face.

“You know, we actually have options,” Steve said as they taxied along the runway. “I have more than one place.”

“You are rich rich,” Bucky joked.

“Shut up, asshole. I have a place in Brooklyn,” he explained, “And in Manhattan. Technically, it’s my brother’s building, which is why we all have apartments there. And I have a place down in DC. So the choice is yours.”

“Which one is home?” Bucky asked. He remembered wishing for home when he was captured, and he might not have a home anymore, but maybe Steve could share his with him.

“Brooklyn,” Steve replied. “I also have half of a holiday house on Long Island. And in California.”

“Alright, rich guy. Brooklyn is fine.”

“That’s just the US properties, there are more,” Steve grinned.

“You’re fucking ridiculous.”

“I’m happy,” Steve said. “I was worried I wasn’t going to get to take you home.”

“I’m home,” Bucky replied.

Steve nodded, and Bucky watched his throat bob.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Lucky me.”

Out of the jet, they were greeted by a black suited man by the latest Audi, who called out, “Hey Steve, welcome back. We missed you.”

“Hey Happy,” Steve grinned, stepping forward to hug him. “It’s good to be back. Happy, this is Bucky Barnes. Buck, meet Happy Hogan, Tony’s best friend and driver.”

“Hi,” Bucky shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you. So where to Cap?” Happy asked as they all climbed into the car, and it was fucking weird, Bucky decided, sitting in the backseat with a driver.

“Brooklyn,” Steve replied. “Jet lag is gonna hit like a bitch soon, and I want my own bed.”

“Sure thing,” Happy chuckled.

Happy pulled the car up outside what had once been a factory building, Bucky surmised from the architecture, but had been gentrified and modernised into apartments. There was a doorman, who opened the door from them and greeted Steve with a, “Good morning, Captain Rogers,” which was so fucking weird, because this was Steve.

“You have a fucking penthouse?” Bucky murmured when Steve hit the button for the top floor. “Rich rich.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Steve muttered, but the effect was ruined by the way he took Bucky’s hand, holding with such gentleness, as though Bucky was something precious. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the exhaustion of travelling and finally being released from hospital, but Bucky felt wobbly, like it was all too much.

The elevator announced their arrival with a quiet ping. Steve led the way, unlocking the apartment door, and letting them inside. 

“Holy fuck,” Bucky exclaimed, wandering into the apartment, only to be greeted with a perfect view of both the Brooklyn and Manhattan Bridges. “Shit.”

“Pretty good, huh?” Steve grinned, standing behind Bucky and winding his arms around his waist.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, leaning back into Steve’s chest, smiling when he felt lips press against his neck. 

“You wanna sleep for a bit?” Steve offered.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Bucky admitted.

“Come on.” Steve retook his hand, tugging him further into the apartment, through the kitchen and living room, and through a door into what turned out to be the bedroom. It wasn’t as huge as Bucky feared, but also boasted a wall of windows overlooking the river. “Bathroom’s through there,” Steve explained, nodding to a second door. “If you need anything, just let me know. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded. Already he could feel the exhaustion creeping up on him again. “Hey, wait,” he called, as Steve moved to the door. “I forgot something.”

Steve frowned, until Bucky stepped close, pressing their mouths together, kissing him slowly, and pouring everything he’d wanted to say since he woke up in Germany into the kiss. Steve kissed back, licking his way into Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky smiled. With one final peck on Steve’s lips, he pulled back, smiling up at him.

“I’m glad you remembered that,” Steve grinned. “Love you. Get some rest.”

X

Hands grabbed at him, pulling him, dragging him, and Bucky wanted to get away. He wriggled and kicked and tried to push the fucking hands off, but they wouldn’t go away.

“Bucky!” Sharon screamed, and he wanted to tell her he was here, he was right fucking here, why didn’t anyone see him? And who the fuck was grabbing at him? Would they get the fuck off!

“Bucky. Bucky.”

Wait.

That wasn’t Sharon’s voice.

“Buck. Come on, Buck.”

The hands weren’t grabbing him, they were shaking him.

“Bucky. Wake up.”

His eyes snapped open with a gasp, and there was someone leaning over him. Bucky’s first instinct was to last out, but luckily Steve caught Bucky’s hand before it could connect with his chin.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “What happened?”

“I heard you scream,” Steve explained, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. “You were thrashing. I was scared you’d hurt yourself.”

“I could feel their hands, taking me away,” Bucky whispered.

“Bucky. Buck, look at me,” Steve ordered, with a hint of command in his tone, and it was actually comforting to hear. It made him feel like he was back in Afghanistan and everything was normal. And wan’t it fucking pathetic that being in a war zone was what he considered normal?

Bucky opened his eyes, drinking in Steve’s concerned face, a loose strand of blond hair falling onto his forehead. Bucky lifted his arm and brushed it away.

“Buck,” Steve whispered.

“Steve,” he murmured. 

“Hey, Buck. Bucky. It’s okay,” Steve assured him, and Bucky had to believe him, wanted desperately to believe him, because this was Steve. Steve wouldn’t lie.

“You rescued me,” Bucky whispered.

“I did,” Steve nodded. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERY SUMMARY: Bucky is held captive and is suffering from an infection in his injured arm. While in captivity, the infection causes him to see memories of various points, including but not specifically referenced to the September 11th attacks. He's rescued by the Avengers, but thinks it's another hallucination, until he wakes up in hospital in Germany. Steve tells him the circumstances of losing his arm, and Bucky has a panic attack when he realises his arm is gone until Steve talks him down. Once Bucky and Steve return to New York, Bucky has a nightmare about the attack that led to his captivity. Steve hears him scream and wakes him.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	5. Wonderful Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony makes Bucky an offer he can't refuse. The whole team flies out to LA for the Emmy Awards.
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - Captain America AU**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilery warnings: PTSD, nightmares.

**July 2010**

Bucky woke with a jolt, wondering what had happened, until he realised that his shoulder was throbbing and he could hear Steve thrashing.

Fuck.

Bucky reached out, flicking on the lamp, before sitting up. From experience, he knew not to touch Steve until he was awake and consenting, or it would result in him on the floor with a knife to his throat. 

“Steve,” he called. “Steve, wake up. Come on, honey, it’s okay. You’re at home. You’re in Brooklyn, with me. Steve. Steve.”

Steve woke with a gasp that sounded as though it was physically ripped from his body, scrambling upright, eyes flickering from side to side. Then it was like cutting the strings on a marionette; he slumped forward, his head in his hands, and all the fight went out of him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe,” Bucky murmured. He waited, hoping for some acknowledgement, but Steve didn’t move. “Can I touch you?”

A pause, then Steve nodded.

“Come on honey, I need you to say it,” Bucky pressed, and hating himself for it. 

“You can touch me,” Steve whispered.

“Thank you.”

Bucky scooted forward, winding his arm around Steve’s waist as he pressed himself to Steve’s bare back, placing a line of kisses along his shoulder before resting his cheek between Steve’s shoulder blades. 

And then promptly lifted his head again, to shake his hair out of his face, because the problem with having long hair and one arm meant that he couldn’t always get his hair out of his face, which was beyond irritating and a point in the pro-prosthetic column. Ever since returning from Afghanistan and his discharge, Bucky had allowed his hair to grow out, wondering what he would look like for the first time without a buzzcut he’d worn since eighteen.

Bucky tightened his arm around Steve’s waist, giving him a brief squeeze. A silent reminder of _I’m here, you’re safe, it’s okay_. When Steve’s hand covered his own, Bucky couldn’t deny the relief the gesture gave him. It was a bad night, but not a Bad Night, the ones where he had to call Steve’s therapist or Sam or Tony to talk him down.

“When you wanna talk, I’m right here,” Bucky reminded him. 

He felt the muscles in Steve’s neck move beneath his head as he nodded, then Bucky fell silent, allowing Steve the time he needed. They sat there in silence, Bucky soaking up the heat from Steve’s body as he dozed against his back, rubbing small circles into Steve’s belly with his fingertips. 

“I was too late,” Steve said eventually. 

Bucky blinked blearily, forcing himself to wake up with the precision focus that had kept him alive in the army.

“Too late for what?” he asked.

“To save you. And then Tony. I was too late.”

Bucky didn’t need Steve to expand on that. Being too late to save either himself or Tony both would’ve resulted in their deaths. Instead, Bucky lifted his head, hooking his chin over Steve’s shoulder and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m here. You saved me,” he whispered, kissing him again. “D’you wanna call Tony?”

Steve shook his head.

“I don’t think that… Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Bucky replied.

He unlatched himself from Steve just long enough to reach over and grab his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Tony’s name and hit call. It rang four times, before Tony’s voice grumbled, “Do you have any idea what time it is, Barnes?”

“Actually, no,” Bucky replied. “But Steve needs to talk to you.”

“Alright, alright, hand him over,” Tony yawned.

Bucky handed the phone to Steve, before wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist and leaning against his shoulder again, dozing to the quiet sound of Steve and Tony’s voices as Tony reassured Steve of his safety. 

“Okay, thank Tony. Good night,” he heard Steve say.

“Better?” Bucky yawned as Steve hung up.

“A little,” Steve admitted. “I’m gonna be able to sleep. I think I’m gonna go watch a movie, okay?”

“Alright,” Bucky nodded. He let go of Steve so he could stand up, then swung his own feet out of bed, following Steve out of the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” Steve frowned.

“Coming with you. Duh.”

“Bucky, go back to bed. I’m fine.”

“I thought we banned that word,” Bucky pointed out, passing Steve to grab the blanket from the back of the couch. “Lie down. You’re comfy and I’m gonna sleep on you.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

“Maybe I want to. Ever think of that, huh, dumbass? Now sit down,” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Steve did as he was told, lying back against the corner of the couch and grabbing the remote. Bucky tucked himself into Steve’s side, pulling the blanket over them both and pillowing his head on Steve’s chest. 

“Just put on _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_,” he mumbled, after five minutes of Steve flicking through the DVR to no avail. He knew it was Steve’s comfort movie, the one he’d watched when he was sick as a child, bundled into bed with Tony, eating Ana Jarvis’ soup. Bucky was more familiar with that movie as an adult than he’d ever been as a child.

“You sure?” Steve asked, his voice rumbling in his chest beneath Bucky’s ear.

“Yes, you idiot. Put on the damn movie.”

“Okay. Thanks Buck.” 

By the time Esmerelda took sanctuary in the cathedral, Bucky was snoring against Steve’s chest, lulled into sleep by his hands running through his hair. When Bucky woke again, the sky outside was streaked with pink and Steve was drooling on his shoulder. Bucky placed a kiss in the hollow of Steve’s throat, chuckling at the way Steve whined and curled in on himself. Steve was not a morning person, a fact that amused Bucky endlessly. Usually, he would be up before Steve, but after the excitement of the night before - and because Steve was clinging to him like a fucking limpet - Bucky lay where he was, safe and warm in Steve’s embrace. 

In the months since his discharge, the thing that had helped his recovery most was waking up every morning and seeing Steve’s face. Or whatever portion of Steve’s face was still visible, as the idiot tried to smother himself with his pillow every night. Being with Steve, living with Steve, loving Steve was the impetuous he needed to get up and get out of bed every morning and face the day. His positivity had surprised his therapist, but Bucky had shrugged and pointed out that losing an arm was something he could live with. He was alive and he had Steve, his arm didn’t matter. 

Even so, there were still days when he struggled, still nights when the memories of his time in the hands of the terrorists haunted him, and in those moments, Steve was there to comfort him.

No, to everyone’s surprise, Steve was the one who’d suffered most. 

The fear of losing Bucky so soon and so similarly to how he’d almost lost Tony dredged up Steve’s old trauma and mixed it with the new, leaving him with horrifying nightmares where he lost both of them, and filled him with unnecessary guilt. Bucky hated seeing Steve like that, but felt privileged that Steve trusted him to be there.

Bucky waited until six forty five, then gently shook Steve awake, laughing when he groaned and tried to push Bucky away.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he teased.

“Fuck you,” Steve mumbled.

“Only if you call Sam and cancel, I’m not having Wilson walking in on us. He’s not getting that show for free.”

Steve snorted, burying his nose in Bucky’s hair, then untangled himself with a sigh. Bucky stretched, repositioning himself to get comfy now that Steve was gone, and drinking in the way the muscles in Steve’s bare back flexed and bunched as he stretched.

“God bless America,” Bucky murmured. 

He retrieved the remote from the floor, flicking through the DVR to find the latest episode of _Castle_. He glanced up when Steve reappeared, dressed in workout gear and glaring at the world. Turning his attention back to the TV, Bucky remained vaguely aware of the sounds of Steve making a smoothie, then a hand caressed his shoulder while Steve stood behind the couch, drinking said smoothie. He disappeared back into the kitchen, then leaned over the back of the couch to kiss Bucky.

“Love you,” Steve murmured.

“Love you too,” Bucky replied. “Hey. You okay?”

“Better,” Steve shrugged. “Running usually helps. Gets it out of my system.”

“Okay.” Bucky pulled him in for a final kiss. “See you soon, asshole.” 

“Yeah, see you.”

Bucky pushed himself up on his elbows, twisting around to take full advantage of the opportunity to ogle Steve’s ass in his running leggings, enjoying the way they clung to him in all the right places. When the door closed, Bucky flopped down the a grin. 

X

“Are you going to lie there all day?”

Bucky looked up to find Steve standing at the end of the couch, hands on his hips with a mock scowl on his face, fresh from the shower after his run with Sam.

“Maybe,” Bucky replied innocently. “Unless someone gives me the right incentive.”

“What kind of incentive?” Steve asked, his lips twitching.

Bucky crooked his finger. 

Steve advanced slowly, pushing the blanket aside and swinging his leg over until he straddled Bucky’s hips. Bucky grinned up at him, a thrill running down his spine at the realisation that Steve was his. Fisting his hand in Steve’s shirt, Bucky tugged him down until he could press their lips together, humming in approval when Steve pushed one hand into his hair. 

Having long hair might be annoying at times, but God it was worth it when Steve played with it.

They kissed slowly, taking their time. Bucky bit down on Steve’s lower lip, and loved the way it made him gasp and his breath stutter, and took advantage of the opportunity to lick his way into Steve’s mouth. Steve groaned, and the knowledge that it was Bucky and what he was doing that made Steve feel like, made Bucky feel like the most powerful man in the world.

“You know,” he murmured, kissing his way down Steve’ neck. “This isn’t exactly an incentive to leave the couch.”

Steve gasped as Bucky sucked on his throat, his hips stuttering and rubbing their hardening cocks together.

“Lube… lube’s in the bedroom,” Steve panted.

Bucky pulled back and grinned like a shark.

“Now _there’s_ an incentive.”

He pushed Steve back, after stealing one final kiss. Steve stood, tugging Bucky to his feet, and Bucky pushed his hand against Steve’s groin. He groaned, dropping his head onto Bucky’s shoulder.

“Bedroom,” Bucky whispered, nipping at his ear.

They stumbled through into the bedroom. Steve pulled Bucky in for a searing kiss before nudging him towards the bed, while Steve turned to grab the lube. In the time that took, Bucky shrugged out of his pyjamas, climbing on to the bed and sitting against the headboard. Steve tossed the lube at him; Bucky caught it expertly, even with only one hand.

“Show off,” Steve smirked. 

“Get in the fucking bed,” Bucky retorted. 

Steve shucked his shirt, then pushed down his trousers slowly, watching Bucky watch him as he did so. Bucky drank in the sight, revelling in every inch of skin revealed. It was so very, very different from their first time, back in Afghanistan, rushed and fully clothed and terrified someone would hear them. Now they had the luxury to take their time, and the soundproofing in their apartment to be as loud as they wanted.

Steve climbed onto the bed, straddling Bucky again, only now it was better because they were naked. Bucky slipped his hand up the planes of Steve’s back. He groaned into Steve’s mouth as Steve tugged on his hair, then yanked Steve forward.

“Bucky, fuck,” Steve panted.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Bucky murmured, licking Steve’s nipple. “What d’you think, Stevie?”

“I think you keep doing that, and you can do whatever you want,” Steve retorted. “Fuck, Buck, yes.” 

Bucky lifted his mouth from Steve’s nipple just long enough to say, “Yes what?” Before tugging it with his teeth.

“Yes! How are you still, fuck, still, still so, so… Oh God…” 

Bucky released Steve’s nipple and caught his chin, holding Steve’s face steady with a grip just the other side to too hard so he could stare deep into his eyes.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked, enunciating every word clearly.

“Yes,” Steve panted. “Yes, Bucky, fuck, please.”

“Well,” Bucky grinned. “Since you said please.” 

X

When Bucky emerged from the shower, flushed from the hot water and the satisfaction of giving Steve a mind-blowing orgasm, he re-dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, then left the bedroom and found Tony Stark in his living room.

The first time Bucky met Tony Stark was six days after they arrived from Germany. His first impression was a knock on the door and a voice yelling, “Hey Rogers! Open up asshole. It’s been six days, and I need to see you with my own two eyes. Lemme in.”

“It’s my brother,” Steve explained. “An idiot, but generally a harmless one.”

Bucky gave a short, sharp nod, then watched as Steve disappeared down the hall, only to return with a familiar faced man wearing a cocky grin.

“Tony Stark is your brother?” Bucky blurted out.

“Uh, yes?” Steve frowned, and that was when Bucky decided that maybe Sharon had a point about how fucking clueless he was. 

“That’s the kind of thing you tell your boyfriend, Steve,” he pointed out.

Tony snorted.

“Alright, I’m dealing with that in a minute, but first: hug me asshole,” he demanded, turning to Steve and opening his arms.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen,” Steve rolled his eyes, but he was already stepping forward and embracing Tony. “Missed you, dummy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I missed you too.” Tony patted his hands over Steve’s torso, then stepped back, scrutinising him with dancing eyes that missed nothing. “Alright, I’m satisfied you’re in one piece. Normal service may now resume.”

“Gee, thanks,” Steve deadpanned. “Coffee?”

“Ah, Steven, you know the way to my heart!” 

“Fucking idiot,” Steve muttered, disappearing into the kitchen. 

Meanwhile, Tony threw himself onto the armchair opposite Bucky and grinned.

“So. You really didn’t know Steve was my brother?”

“I kind of hate that TV show with a burning passion, so I’ve avoided it like the plague since it begun,” Bucky shrugged.

Tony cackled, throwing his head back as he laughed. 

“You’re brilliant. Very much Steve’s type. I see why he likes you. Hey, Steve? I approve of your boyfriend. Definite glow up from He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“Voldemort?” Bucky frowned. 

“Worse,” Tony replied. “The ex from hell. We don’t talk about him. Unless we’re planning on launching military grade explosives at him. Ooh, coffee! Gimme!”

“How’re Pepper and Harley?” Steve asked, handing Tony his coffee and sitting down next to Bucky.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that blatant change of subject,” Tony shook his head. “They’re great. Pep’s running rings around the board, making them think it’s their idea to do exactly what she wants, and Harley’s doing great. Hang on.” Tony put his coffee aside, wrestling his phone from his pocket and passing it to Steve. “I took Harley and Pete into the workshop the other day to build robots. That’s what they made.”

“Damn, they’ve grown,” Steve breathed, before showing the photo on the screen to Bucky. “My nephews,” he explained. 

Two boys stood behind a robot, one taller and lanky as only a teenager could be with floppy brown hair, and the other younger with dark blond hair and a shit eating grin.

“That’s what happens when you disappear into the desert for months on end,” Tony shrugged, taking the phone back. Bucky wondered if the choice of words was deliberate, recalling the headlines when Tony was kidnapped in Afghanistan. Everyone had presumed him dead. Everyone but Steve and Rhodes. 

Since that first meeting, Bucky had adjusted to Tony. He was loud and talkative, but when he was with Steve, Bucky had glimpsed his quieter moments, heard his voice fill with affection for Harley, who Bucky now knew was the son he’d adopted with his wife, and Peter, who was the son he’d had with Natasha. He’d heard about Tony’s own struggles with PTSD while they helped Steve deal with his own. 

“Hello,” Tony smirked. “I see you two had a good morning,” he added, nodding towards Steve’s neck and the marks Bucky left there. “Is that story on the internet about a woman getting in trouble for damaging military property by giving her husband a hickey true? You two better hope not.”

“You’re just jealous,” Bucky retorted, leaning down to kiss Steve. “What’re you doing here anyway?”

Tony mimed gagging.

“Ew, gross. Please stop. I don’t want to watch you stick your tongue down my brother’s throat.”

“I’ve seen you do way worse,” Steve pointed out. “One multiple occasions.”

“Shh, Steve, this isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t everything?” Steve teased.

Tony poked him in the thigh with the toe of his sneaker. Steve responded by throwing a cushion at him.

“Children,” Bucky called. “Is there a reason you’re interrupting me kissing my boyfriend?” he asked Tony.

“Yes, there is. I’m here to see you, actually.”

Bucky blinked.

“You are?”

“I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse,” Tony said in all seriousness. Then he burst out laughing. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. It’s about your arm. One of the many things my company does these days is work in prosthetics. Among other medical doodads.”

“Is that a technical term?”

“Shut up Rogers. I have this girl working for me, Shuri, she’s incredible, seriously. Smartest than anyone I’ve ever met, including me. Anyway. She’s created these new prosthetics. 3D printed. Very cool, very affordable. Which, you know, is important. And there’s one with your name on it if you want it.”

“Seriously?”

“I mean, you don’t have to have your name on it if you don’t want to. Really they can look like anything. You could make it look like C-3PO, if you’re a huge fucking nerd like my brother. Personally, I think a robotic red and gold design would look very cool, but that’s just me.”

“How does it work?” Bucky asked. 

“Alright. The sensors in the arm detect your muscle movement and the hand responds,” Tony explained. “Each arm is made to measure, so the sensors will be in the optimal location for your muscles. You make the same movements you would to move a flesh hand and the bionic hand moves. The quicker you move the muscles, the stronger the grip, so you can regulate it to whatever you’re holding. Even with the battery, it’s the lightest prosthetic arm available which, yay, less pain from carrying it around all day.”

Bucky nodded slowly.

“Can I think about it?” he asked.

Tony opened his mouth, but Steve delivered a swift kick to his shin.

“Ouch!” Tony glowered at him. “Son of a- Seriously Rogers? I was going to say yes. That hurt.”

“Oops?” Steve shrugged.

Tony stuck out his tongue at him.

“Of course you can think about it Barnes. Jesus, Steve, that’s going to bruise!”

Steve looked entirely unrepentant.

“Urgh, fine. I’m leaving, so you two can go back to being gross and kissing and whatever you do,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Bucky, think about it. Call me when you make up your mind. And despite what that asshole might say, I genuinely won’t be offended if you say no. Later, assholes.”

Once they heard the door close, Steve turned to Bucky.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Bucky replied.

“You know-“

“Steve. I _don’t_ want to talk about it,” Bucky repeated, his voice taking on a hard edge. God knows, he loved Steve, but the man was like a dog with a bone sometimes, and Bucky was _not_ having this conversation.

“Okay,” Steve shrugged, but Bucky had a feeling that he wasn’t going to just let this go.

X

Steve did not let it go.

Bucky pointedly ignored him whenever he brought it up, to the point where Steve had the gall to call him stubborn, which was the pot calling the kettle black. But the thing was, Bucky was stubborn, he knew that. And he wasn’t going to let anyone, not even Steve, influence his decision on this.

On one hand - pun intended, because Bucky loved a good pun, especially about his arm of lack of it - the idea of having two functioning hands again was definitely appealing. For once thing, it would make getting dressed a hell of a lot easier, which would drastically reduce the time it took for him to leave the house. He could wear a lot less sweatpants. He could carry more than one item at a time. He could hold Steve with both hands instead of just one.

But on the other hand, he’d just become accustomed to life with one hand. He managed. Okay, everything was slower and exhausting and frustrating, but he managed. He’d learned how to survive with one hand. Getting a prosthetic would mean re-learning how to do everything _again_, and Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to put himself through that. 

Still, he thought, wrestling to get the button on his jeans closed, there would be definite advantages. 

“I’m off to meet Clint and the girls,” Bucky called, leaning down to kiss Steve. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun,” Steve smiled. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Bucky waved. 

If he’d believed that Clint would no longer claim him just because they were Stateside, Bucky would’ve been sadly mistaken. According to Clint, they’d bonded, so Bucky had introduced Clint to Jessica and Nakia, and then Sharon rejoined them when her tour finished, and just like that, Clint was part of their group. Dani adored him, probably because Clint was mad enough to do whatever she asked, and happily joined her to play in the park. 

“Uncle Bucky!” Dani yelled, leaping off of the slide and racing towards him. Bucky crouched down to hug her, since he could no longer scoop her up and swing her around like he used to.

(Being able to pick up his nice: point in the pro-prosthetic column)

“Hey munchkin,” he grinned, kissing the top of her head. “Having fun, Barton?” he called. 

Clint threw him a thumbs up from the top of the climbing frame, where he hung upside down by his knees, because of course he was. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head at Clint’s antics as Dani ran back to join him.

“You’re just in time. Shanon’s getting ice cream,” Jess informed him in lieu of greeting as Bucky threw himself down on the bench between her and Nakia.

“Awesome.”

“So what’s up?” Nakia asked. “Why the 911?”

“Steve’s being a pain in the ass,” Bucky explained. “Tony offered me a prosthetic arm from his company, and Steve won’t quit bugging me about it.”

“Want me to kick his ass?” Jess offered.

“As amusing as that would be to see, I’m gonna pass. For now.”

“Barton! Ice cream!” Sharon yelled as she walked across the park, balancing six tubs of ice cream. “Hey Buckaroo.”

“Hey Shaz. Thanks,” Bucky said, taking a tub.

“Sweet!” Clint called, jogging across to them, stealing a tub and dropping onto the bench opposite Bucky. “So, what’s up?”

“Steve’s being a dick,” Jess shrugged. 

“Huh?” Clint frowned. 

Bucky felt a flutter of nerves. Clint had known Steve a lot longer than he’d known Bucky and his friends; maybe he wouldn’t take kindly to them bitching about him. As Bucky understood it, Steve had pretty much adopted Clint and the others when they met in basic, and they’d been friends ever since. 

“He’s keeps trying to get me to talk about getting a prosthetic.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Steve,” Clint nodded. “Want me to ask Nat to tell him to back off?” 

“Nah, he stopped going on about it when I threatened to stop giving him orgasms for a month,” Bucky grinned. 

“That’ll do it,” Sharon agreed. 

“Dani! If you don’t get your butt over here, then uncle Bucky’s going to eat your ice cream,” Jess warned.

“Coming!” Dani yelled.

“I just needed to spend an hour with people who weren’t going to be a pain in the ass about it,” Bucky finished. “This is fucking good ice cream.”

“I know, right?” Nakia agreed. 

Dani raced over to the table, picking up her ice cream and glaring at Bucky.

“Don’t eat my ice cream,” she warned.

“Did I touch her ice cream?” Bucky asked. “Cross my heart, sweetie, I never even looked at it.”

“I’m watching you,” Dani informed him, hopping up onto the bench next to her mother.

“Best behaviour then.”

Spending the afternoon with his best friends was exactly what he needed, it turned out. Bucky was able to laugh and tease and pretend for an hour that he was normal, and the biggest decision in his life was whether or not to get a second round of ice cream (an unequivocal yes, much to Clint’s delight). 

Damn, he loved these people. 

Instead of going straight home after they all said goodbye, Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket and called Tony.

“-do that or it’s gonna burn your eyebrows off and your mother will literally skin me alive, kid. Hello?” Tony greeted.

“I don’t even wanna know what you’re doing,” Bucky declared.

“Plausible deniability. Good plan,” Tony agreed. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“I, uh, I made up my mind. About the arm.”

“Oh yeah? Harley, put that down or you’re grounded! Jesus, never have kids. They are really bad for your blood pressure. Sorry. You were saying.”

“I made up my mind,” Bucky repeated. “I, uh, I think I wanna go for it.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Please.”

“No problem. I’ll talk to Shuri, organise an appointment for you with her. She’s amazing, you’ll love her.”

“Okay. And, uh, Tony? Thanks. For the offer. And for letting me think about it.”

“No problem,” Tony replied. “Big decision. I get it. Uh, I gotta go, I have a child holding a soldering iron but I’ll text you the details, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem. Thanks.”

Bucky hung up, pocketing his phone and turning towards the subway station, confident that he’d made the right decision.

X

**August 2010**

“I can’t believe I’m going to the fucking Emmys,” Bucky declared, lounging in the soft leather seat of Tony’s private jet. Or Tony and Steve’s private jet. Whatever. “This is the coolest thing ever.”

Steve grinned at him from across the table and Bucky reached across to take him hand, his face lighting up at the fact that he had two hands once more. Tony was right, Shuri was amazing, and Bucky had chosen a cover for his prosthetic that looked like steel with lines of gold running through it. It was very cool. 

“I’m gonna geek out so hard,” he informed Steve.

The only slight downside about going to the Emmys with Steve and the rest of the Avengers was due to the fact that if anyone asked, he was Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend. Not boyfriend. Not unless Steve wanted to get thrown out of the Air Force. Which kinda sucked. Because Bucky wanted to be able to hold his hand and kiss him, but there were way too many cameras at an event like the Emmys for them to get away with showing affection unseen. It just wasn’t worth it. 

“Just don’t make as much of an idiot of yourself as Barton did the first year, and you’ll be good,” Tony called.

“Fuck you, Stark,” Clint shouted from the other end of the plane, where he was engaged in a vicious game of Go Fish with Thor and Sam.

“Geeking so hard,” Bucky repeated, squeezing Steve’s hand. 

“Go for it,” Steve smiled. 

When they landed in LA, Happy was waiting with a limo that they all - Bucky, Steve, Tony, Tony’s wife Pepper, Clint, Sam, Thor, Natasha, and Natasha’s boyfriend Bruce - piled into, to drive them out to Tony’s Malibu mansion to get ready for the ceremony.

“Is this yours too?” Bucky asked, gaping at the, frankly astounding, house that was on the edge of a freaking cliff.

“No, my place is down in LA itself,” Steve replied. “But since it’s a party, Tony and I decided we’d all crash here.”

Bucky nodded, drinking in his surroundings. 

He barely had a chance to admire the house before they were invaded by a gaggle of stylists and hairdressers and make-up artists, filling up the house with noise and chaos and Bucky loved it. It was like being in the army. Okay, the amount of glitter and the make up, that part wasn’t like the army. But the constant bustle and throng of people, that was like being in the army. 

It was fucking brilliant.

Buoyant with excitement, he even allowed one of the hairdressers to tidy the ends of his hair, which now reached his shoulders. Until now, Steve was the only one he trusted near him with scissors. 

There was a brand new suit waiting for him upstairs, royal blue bright against the white shirt. Thanks to his prosthetic, buttons were a hell of a lot easier than they were, but his tie was a problem that Bucky wasn’t sure he could overcome. Rather than stressing about it, he just called for Steve.

“Yeah?” Steve poked his head out of the bathroom. “Holy shit.”

“What?”

“You look fucking amazing,” Steve beamed.

“Shut up and help me with my tie,” Bucky grumbled, hating that he was blushing and Steve could see it.

“Yes sir,” Steve smirked, emerging from the bathroom in only his boxers. His hands danced around Bucky’s throat, their proximity drawing up familiar nerves that Bucky pushed down, comforting himself with the knowledge that it was Steve and Steve would never hurt him. When he was done, Steve ran his hands down the from of Bucky’s shirt, shooting out non-existent wrinkles. “You look beautiful, Buck,” he murmured. 

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” Bucky smirked, leering at Steve, before smacking his ass.

Steve rolled his eyes and stole a kiss before returning to the bathroom.

Fiddling with his cufflinks, Bucky made his way downstairs, where he came to a sudden stop and gape.

“Wow,” he managed eventually. “You two look fucking hot.”

“Thank you,” Pepper smiled. 

“You look not bad yourself, Barnes,” Natasha agreed.

“Just practising for my future as a trophy husband,” Bucky joked. “Seriously, you’re beautiful. Both of you.”

Pepper’s dress was silky and blue, with a low back that sparkled in the light, while Natasha’s was black, held up on thin spaghetti straps and shimmered from top to toe. 

“Stop flirting with my wife,” Tony called as he joined them. He walked straight up to Pepper, kissing her cheek. “You look stunning, Miss Potts.”

“Thank you, Mr Stark. You're tie’s crooked,” Pepper smiled. 

“This is what happens when you let me dress myself,” Tony shrugged, standing patiently for her to fix it. 

“He’s not safe to be let out,” Clint agreed, following Sam and Thor into the room, Bruce on his heels. 

“Where’s the star of the show?” Tony wondered, ignoring Clint. “Steve! Get your ass down here!”

“Coming!”

“I swear, he’s gonna be late to his own funeral,” Tony muttered. “Steven! Now!”

“I’m here,” Steve said, jogging down the stairs. Bucky turned and froze, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend, his boyfriend who, until now, he’d only ever seen in his ACU, or lounging around the house in sweatpants or jeans. There was of course the fucking fantastic pair of jeans he’d worn at Tony’s Christmas party, that Bucky had enjoyed seeing Steve’s ass in, and enjoyed removing them even more. But all of that paled in comparison to the sight of Steve Rogers in a tailor-made tuxedo. He felt his mouth go dry.

“Oh God, they’re going to be gross again,” he heard Tony say in the background. Right, everyone out. Steve, you two have fine minutes or we’re leaving without you.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky breathed, stepping forward. “You look… yeah.”

“I look yeah?” Steve teased.

“Shut up, asshole,” Bucky shook his head, then pulled Steve in, nipping at his lips. “Jesus, I love you so damned much.”

“I love you too,” Steve murmured. “I don’t care what happens tonight. I got you, so I already won.”

“Jesus, cheesy much, Rogers?” Bucky teased, but his heart wasn’t in it. It was too busy beating out a merengue in his chest.

“Always,” Steve whispered, kissing him again.

Bucky leaned into the kiss, happy to stay here, kissing Steve. Or at least he was, until a horn blared, reminding them of Tony’s threat.

“Right. Car. Emmys. That’s a thing,” Bucky swallowed.

“Right,” Steve echoed. He took Bucky’s hand, squeezing it once, before heading for the door. “Let’s do this.”

X

Bucky knew walking the red carpet would be intense, but he wasn’t prepared for exactly how intense it would really be until the limo door opened, and the wall of sound hit him, before he’d stepped out of the car. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Natasha smiled, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends,” Bruce quoted.

Bucky grinned.

He liked Bruce. He was kind of dorky and shy, but he was funny and clearly adored Natasha and Peter, which made him okay in Bucky’s eyes.

“You said it,” he said before following Steve out of the car.

It was amazing, watching the transformation that overtook Steve as he stepped onto the red carpet. Gone was Bucky’s adorable, dorky, opinionated boyfriend, and in his place stood a cool, confidant hero with a movie star smile, raising his hand to wave to the crowd as he stepped forward. Glancing around the rest of their group, Bucky saw that Tony had slipped into a similar persona too. They’d been doing this most of their lives, he realised, growing up in the Stark family meant taking centre stage long before Steve was on TV.

But then Steve stopped to search for Bucky and winked at him, and there was the Steve he knew.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

“It’s a lot,” Bucky admitted. “But I got this.”

“Good,” Steve nodded.

They walked down the carpet, the Avengers peeling off to talk to fans and reporters periodically. Bucky lingered in the centre with Bruce and Pepper, relieved that he wasn’t the only one standing by while Steve and his team did their thing.

“Do you ever get used to this?” he asked.

“Personally? No,” Bruce replied. “But maybe that’s just me.”

“You just get better and pretending you love it,” Pepper replied.

“How did you say that without moving your mouth?” Bucky wondered.

“Practise.”

They made their way along the carpet, pausing for photos first as a group, and then as couples or individuals. Steve dragged Bucky in for a picture of the two of them, slinging their arms around each other’s shoulders in what would hopefully appear a friendly manner. A strictly friendly manner.

Then, finally, they made it inside and away from the screaming and Bucky was able to breathe.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed.

“Having fun, yet?” Steve grinned, turning back into his old self.

“I don’t know, I think I left my head in the car.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve assured him, and they followed Tony and Pepper into the auditorium. 

As _Captain America & the Avengers_ was a nominee, their seats were at the end of a row, six rows back from the stage. Bucky gaped at all the familiar faces in the audience as they made their way down the aisle. Once they were seated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a selfie to send to the girls, with the caption _We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto! _Then he tugged Steve in for a picture of the two of them, saving it and making it his wallpaper as he waited for the show to start. 

“Alright, boys and girls and anything in-between,” Tony called, holding up his own phone, “Everybody say Assemble!”

They all leaned in, jostling until they all made it into the picture and obligingly chanted, “Assemble!”

Bucky threw Steve a grin as he sat back, before leaning over and whispering, “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Guess you’ll just have to save them for when we get home,” Steve replied.

Bucky hummed.

“How good is Tony’s soundproofing?”

Steve elbowed him as the lights dimmed, ready for the show to start, and Bucky forgot about kissing Steve because then Jimmy Fallon was onstage with Tina Fey and Jon Hamm and the cast of Glee, and he was wondering how the hell this was his life. He glanced to his right, where Steve sat watching the show, and thought _Oh, yeah. That’s how. _

The award for Outstanding Nonfiction Series, where _Captain America & the Avengers_ was nominated, sat near the end of the show, right after the award for Outstanding Directing for a Miniseries, Movie, or Dramatic Special, which meant there were a lot of award to get through before it was Steve’s turn. Bucky watched, entranced by this world that had been so alien and so far from what he knew or expected. It seemed crazy now, to think that a little over a year ago, he’d hated Steve. 

Crazy. 

When the director of_ Temple Grandin_ left the stage with his award, Bucky felt the atmosphere change in the group to one of anticipation. Beside him, Steve tensed, and Bucky risked squeezing his hand in reassurance, although he released it immediately, instead of holding on like he normally would. Jimmy Fallon welcomed Trish Walker to the stage to announce the winner of the Outstanding Nonfiction Series award.

Bucky exhaled.

As Trish Walker read through the names of the nominees, he clapped politely, until she announced _Captain America & the Avengers_, at which point he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, earning an eyeball from Steve. Bucky grinned. The cheer for _Captain America & the Avengers_ was louder than any of the others, he noted, crossing his fingers and hoping that was a good sign. 

He still hated the show, but Steve and his team deserved to win.

“And the Emmy to goes to…” Trish Walker paused.

Bucky held his breath.

“…_Captain America & the Avengers_.”

The crowd erupted. Bucky cheered, turning to hug Steve without giving a damn what anyone thought.

“Congratulations,” he whispered, before releasing Steve so he could lean past Bucky to hug Tony. He watched proudly as Steve and the team made their way onto the stage, glancing to his left to grin at Tony and Pepper. Tony reached past Pepper, catching Bucky’s hand and squeezing it as he beamed.

The applause died down as Steve stepped up to the microphone, gold statue in hand, surrounded by his team.

“Wow,” he began. “Uh, wow. Creating this show, working on this show, had been an honour from day one. I know, and I hope you know too, that what you see onscreen is just a glimpse of what the brave men and women of our military go through every day. We don’t always show you what it’s really like over there, mostly because we can’t. But it’s been my honour and my privilege to share with you what I can. I speak for all of us when I say thank you to everyone who makes the show, there’s so many of you, if I named you all I’d get thrown off the stage for taking too long. Most of all, we want to thank Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, Colonel James Rhodes, and our families, Peter, Harley, Bruce, Cooper, Lia, Nate, Bucky, and Jane, for supporting us and being the real heroes behind the cameras. Finally, I’d like to dedicate this award to everyone who we’ve saved, and to the families of those we didn’t. Thank you.”

Bucky leaned over to Tony and Pepper and, over the riotous applause, said, “He’s pretty good at that, ain’t he?”

X

“There you are,” Steve said, appearing out of the crowd, the Emmy in his hand. “You okay?”

“I just met Matthew Morrison and Neil Patrick Harris, so I am great,” Bucky beamed. “This is the best day of my life.”

“Should I be jealous?” Steve joked.

“Well, one of them is straight, and the other one is about to have twins with his boyfriend, so I think you’re safe,” Bucky replied. “Hey, hand it over, I wanna hold an Emmy. This is so cool,” he grinned, once Steve passed him the award.

“You know, one day, I’m gonna be able to stand up there and say who you really are you me,” Steve murmured.

“And who is that?”

“The love of my life.”

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered. “You’re making it really hard not to kiss you in front of all these people, Rogers.”

“I know,” Steve shrugged. “I’ll make it up to you when we get home.”

“Home home, or Malibu home?”

“Malibu home. I’m careful, I’m not a sadist,” Steve snorted.

“Good. Otherwise I was blowing you in the restroom on the plane,” Bucky informed him, entirely serious.

“Well. You could still do that,” Steve shrugged, his lips twitching. “Tony’ll freak.”

“Is that a pro or con?”

“Definitely a pro,” Steve smirked.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving. Now,” Bucky decided. “Otherwise you’re coming out of the closet, right here, right now.”

“Let’s go,” Steve grinned, tugging him towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's prosthetic is based on the Hero Arm, which is a real prosthetic and is very cool. You can change the covers, getting different designs including BB-8 and, yes, Iron Man. Although Hero Arm wasn't invented back in 2010, I decided to use it anyway, because Shuri, Tony, and Bruce's genius combined came up with the design and they are the three smartest people on the planet. Look it up, it's very cool.
> 
> The award the show wins at the Emmys, the Outstanding Nonfiction Series is now called the Outstanding Documentary or Nonfiction Series, and is part of the Creative Primetime Emmys, rather than the main Primetime Emmys. However, for the sake of the story, I shifted it into the main ceremony because it's easier to find clips from the main Emmys than the Creative Arts Emmys. Plus, this is fiction, so you know.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	6. My life would suck without you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was in class when he got the call.
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - College**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilery Warnings: mentions of 9/11, minor panic attack, bullet wound.

Bless his heart, Steve may be a complete and utter asshole, but when Bucky told him that he was considering applying to college, he was nothing but supportive. Not one joke, not one derogatory comment, as if he knew that this was important to Bucky, and if he received any kind of shit about it, then he would drop the idea like a stone.

Bucky had complicated feelings about going to college. Back in his life before, his plan was always to go to college. His parents made it clear that was what they wanted for all their children. May had gone off to college to study nursing two years before Bucky turned eighteen, and Kimmy, at all of twelve years old, already had her college, majors and minors picked out. 

Bucky was not as committed to this plan.

Mostly because it wasn’t his plan. If he was going to go to college, he wanted to go on his terms, but just because his parents wanted him to. He was eighteen, he had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. He tried suggesting that he would take a few years out, travel and work, take the time to really figure out how he wanted to make with his future.

That idea went down like a tonne of lead bricks.

His mom was adamant: college was the way forward. 

So he applied to the local college and got in. His mom was thrilled. Bucky’s reaction could best be described as unenthusiastic ambivalence. As it turned out, it didn’t matter. 

Because at 8.46am on September 11th 2001, just days before Bucky was due to start college, American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into the World Trade Centre and changed Bucky’s life forever. Instead of college, he joined the army and lost his family, and didn’t think about college again until Steve Rogers dragged him out of a cave in Afghanistan. 

When he first brought up college and Steve was decidedly not an asshole, Bucky wondered if it was going to be like his mom all over again, pushing and overly ambitious without stopping to consider what Bucky really wanted. Instead, Steve simply collected a prospectus for every college in the city and told Bucky to pick any school he wanted, promising to cover any fees that the GI Bill didn’t cover and left him to it. 

Bucky fell a little bit more in love at that.

Steve was there if he wanted to talk about his options, but there was never any pressure. And when Bucky decided that he wanted to do something in the sciences, Steve was the first to admit that he wasn’t the best person to talk to. So Bucky talked to Tony and Bruce and Rhodes - because apparently the Colonel was a literal rocket scientist, which was so cool - and explored his options. It was Rhodes who suggested City Tech, and Tony who helped him prepare his application for their mechanical engineering technology course, and unlike nine years ago, Bucky was genuinely nervous waiting to hear the results of his application.

But no one was prouder than Steve when Bucky got in.

X

**June 2011**   
****

Bucky was in class when he got the call.

His phone buzzed against his hip in the pocket of his jeans as he listened to his Calculus professor. Pulling his phone free, Bucky saw Tony’s name, rolled his eyes and swiped ignore, turning his attention back to the lecture. He had finals in a couple of weeks. 

Ten seconds later, the phone burst into life again. 

Bucky huffed out a breath, silencing the phone again. Tony knew his schedule, he knew he had class today. He knew Bucky couldn’t pick up. 

“Oh, for-,” he muttered as the phone started up for a third time.

But this time it was Pepper’s name on the screen, and that simple fact gave him pause. 

Tony interrupting his class or forgetting his schedule, Bucky could understand. But Pepper? Pepper knew everyone’s commitments off the top of her head. She had a whole fucking spreadsheet with each and every one of the Avengers and their dependants schedules. She would never call him when he was in class, not unless it was an emergency. 

Sliding out of his seat, Bucky snuck out of the hall and swiped answer.

“Pepper?”

“Bucky. You need to come to the tower,” Pepper said. 

“Why? What happened?”

“Just come over. Now.”

Bucky’s stomach swooped. He swallowed.

“Okay. I’m on my way,” he muttered.

Returning to the lecture hall, he shuffled his laptop into his bag and apologised to his lecturer.

“Sorry, family emergency.” 

It took him twenty minutes on the subway to reach the tower, jogging through the reception and swiping his access card against the private elevator that led to the Avengers’ apartments and Tony’s penthouse. Bucky exhaled as the elevator rose up, staring out across the city. His mind was already racing to the worst possibilities, and each one was worse than the last. 

Finally the elevator stopped, the doors opening with a quiet ding, and Bucky hurried into the penthouse. 

“Tony?” he called. 

He found them in the lounge, Tony sitting in an armchair with his head hanging between his knees, Pepper at his side. Bruce was pacing by the windows on his phone.

“What is it? What’s happened?” Bucky asked, flooded with dread.

“Steve’s been injured,” Pepper explained, rubbing Tony’s shoulder. “He’s fine, he’s at Bagram, he’s waiting for surgery.”

“Surgery?” Bucky exclaimed. “What the hell happened?” 

“He got shot,” Tony said, his voice hoarse.

Bucky’s head swam. He groped blindly, until his hand found the back of the couch. He stumbled forward, fall into the soft leather and tried to focus on his breathing. Oh God, Steve… 

“Bucky? Bucky?” Pepper called. 

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Pepper promised. “It’s a minor wound, no major arteries were hit. But the bullet is still in his shoulder and they need to remove it. Bruce is trying to get through to Natasha right now.”

Bucky nodded. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Jesus, just an hour ago his biggest worry were finals. He focused on his breathing, using every tool in his arsenal to stop himself from spiralling. 

Bruce was talking, he realised, quiet murmurs into his phone. Bucky’s head snapped up, his eyes boring into Bruce, until he cross the room and handed the phone to Bucky, simply telling him, “Nat.”

“Natasha?” 

“Hi Barnes,” Natasha’s voice replied. “He’s okay. They’ve taken someone else for surgery first, so it’s not that serious He’s bitching like all that. Hang on.”

Bucky pressed the phone closer to his ear, as if it could physically transport him across the miles to Afghanistan and Steve. He heard muffled voices, then, “Bucky?”

“You son of a bitch,” Bucky gasped, relief flooding him at the sound of Steve’s voice.

“Yeah, I miss you too jerk.”

“What the fuck, Steve? What happened?”

“Wrong place at the wrong time,” Steve said lightly, and Bucky _knew_ there was more to the story than that, but Steve couldn’t say anything because their call would be monitored and OPSEC was a thing. “I’m fine, I promise.”

“You gave me a fucking heart attack,” Bucky snapped. 

“I’m okay. It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay.”

Bucky nodded, because his throat felt thick and part of him wanted to cry, but that was probably not a good idea. Then he realised that Steve couldn’t see him, so nodding was redundant. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he managed to croak, “Yeah.”

“On scale of one to ten, how likely is Tony to kill me?”

Bucky glanced across the room and found Tony watching him intently, the way a cat watched a mouse before it pounced.

“Fifteen.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Uh huh. I’m gonna hand you over. Take care of yourself, asshole.”

“I will.”

Bucky held out the phone and Tony pounced.

“Steve, you goddamn, fucking stupid son of a bitch, I swear to God I’m gonna kill you myself.”

Bucky exhaled, melting back into the soft leather cushions of the couch. Steve was okay. Well, he’d have one hell of a sore ear by the time Tony finished yelling at him, but he would live. A hand squeezed his shoulder; Bucky gave Bruce a weak smile.

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Bruce smiled. “I’m gonna go save Steve from Tony.”

Bucky nodded. Exhaustion washed over him as he watched Bruce wrestle his phone out of Tony’s hands so he could talk to Natasha again. Behind him, the elevator dinged then Harley and Peter appeared.

Bucky liked the kids. Hell, he liked Clint’s kids too, but they were with his ex-wife while he was deployed, and due to the shared custody agreement, Bucky didn’t see them as often, which meant that he didn’t know them as well. Harley and Peter were both close with Steve, which meant that now they were close to Bucky too. 

Immediately Harley crossed to his parents, and Tony pulled him in for a hug, carefully checking over his son while Pepper wrapped her arms around them both. Meanwhile Peter looked between Tony’s family and bruce, who was still talking to Natasha, before sitting down next to Bucky.

“Hey kid,” Bucky greeted.

“Is uncle Steve okay?” Peter asked, biting his lip.

“He’s fine. We just spoke to him on the phone,” Bucky explained.

Peter nodded, looking at Tony and Harley again, a hint of longing in his gaze. Bucky knew that while Tony was Peter’s father, he’d never been his dad. That responsibility had fallen on Steve and Bruce, even before Natasha and Bruce became a couple.

“Come here,” Bucky said, holding out his arm.

Relief flashed across Peter’s face and he buried into Bucky’s side. He was a warm comforting weight in Bucky’s arms, only a few years younger than Bucky’s youngest sister. When Bucky looked up, he found Tony staring at Peter, concern and fear and love bubbling up in his eyes. Nothing Bucky watching, Tony mouthed _Thank you_. Bucky nodded. 

It wasn’t that Tony didn’t want to be Peter’s dad, Bucky had realised early on, it was that he didn’t know how. And now he believed it was too late. 

X

Bucky camped out at the tower that night. They ordered in pizza, sprawled across the lounge, Tony and his family on one couch, and Bucky and Bruce with Peter in the middle on the other. It was only after Natasha called to let them know that Steve was out of surgery and doing okay that they went to bed. Bucky fell into the bed they rarely used, and he didn’t know if it made it better or worse that he could still smell Steve’s cologne faintly on the sheets.

The next morning they received word that Steve was being shipped home. The bullet was removed, but he would need physiotherapy, which meant that the Avengers would complete the final month of their tour without him. When they spoke on the phone, Steve confided in Bucky that he knew they’d be fine without him under Natasha’s command. If she was under any other CO, Natasha probably would’ve moved on and up long ago.

Bucky decided against meeting Steve at the airport, realising that he would be unable to hold back when he saw him, and with DADT still in place for another couple of months, it just wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, it gave Tony a chance to see him and berate him for the length of the car ride to Brooklyn, and then Bucky and Steve could have their reunion uninterrupted by Tony’s need to mother hen everyone in sight.

Of course, by the time the clock announced at it was time for Steve’s plane to land, Bucky was regretting that decision with every fibre of his being.

All he wanted was to see his boyfriend and berate him for being so fucking stupid as to get shot in the first place, was that too much to ask? 

_Three months_, he told himself. In three months DADT would be gone and would cease to be Steve’s best friend-slash-roommate and officially be his boyfriend. _Finally_. The press would have a field day; they’d been trying desperately to prove there was more than just friendship between Steve and Bucky ever since Bucky went to the Emmys with the team last year, but they were careful. Meticulously so. It helped that Steve had always kept his relationships under wrap, so it wasn’t as though Steve went from dating openly to apparent celibacy. 

Bucky’ phone vibrated against the table, the screen lighting up with a message from Steve.

_In the car. If I survive I’ll see you soon xx_

Bucky fired off an affirmative, so Steve knew he’d seen the text, then left the couch and began to pace. 

He thrummed with nervous energy, the thought of _Steve_ repeating again and again in his mind, his ears pricked for the click of the latch on the front door. Then he stopped pacing and stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows, staring out across the river and the city, drinking it in.

It was his home, he realised. This place, this city, with Steve and his friends and the Avengers, this was his home now. Not Indiana. The realisation was so surprising, that Bucky missed the sound of the door opening, until he heard it close and spun around and then Steve was there.

“Hey,” Steve said softly.

“You survived Tony then?” Bucky said, feeling like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. 

“Barely,” Steve smiled

“Fuck, you asshole,” Bucky muttered, striding across the room and pulling Steve in so he could kiss him. “Do you have an idea how scared I was?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” Bucky groused. “You’re a dick. Let me see.”

He helped Steve out of his shirt so he could examine his shoulder, not that there was much to examine when it was still strapped up. In the meantime, Steve’s hands rubbed small circles onto Bucky’s hips, reassuring and solid, and Bucky turned his head, kissing him again.

“If you die over there, I’ll kill you myself,” he murmured.

“Not going to die, Buck,” Steve replied. “It was one bullet. I’m fine. They only sent me home because I need physio. Otherwise-“

“Shut up,” Bucky interrupted, kissing him again. Then he pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes and breathing in. Steve nudged at his lips.

“I’ve been travelling all night,” he whispered. “I need a shower. You coming?”

“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight ever again, you’ve got another thing coming, pal,” Bucky retorted. 

“I’m okay with that,” Steve smiled as Bucky took his hand, tugging him through the apartment towards the bathroom. 

X

Steve’s hands were a wonderful contradiction, soft and yet calloused at the same time. Bucky loved them, whether they were in his own, or gripping his hips or shoulders, or like now, when his fingers trailed across Bucky’s face. 

Bucky watched Steve with a soft smile, as he explored Bucky’s face with his fingers. It was terrifying sometimes, realising the depth of his feelings for this man. Terrifying and heady and amazing. He scrunched up his nose wen Steve’s fingers ran over his eyelids, snorting with quiet laughter, before catching Steve’s hand and pressing a kiss to his wrist. 

“What are you doing?” he asked eventually.

“Memorising,” Steve replied. “So I never forget.”

Bucky poked him in the ribs, grinning when Steve squirmed away. He loved the fact that Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, was ticklish.

“Sap,” he teased.

“You love it,” Steve retorted.

“No,” Bucky lied. “But I do love you.”

“Good,” Steve murmured. He leaned in to kiss Bucky once, then told him, “Wait here.”

Bucky watched with a curious frown as Steve sat up, turning to rummage in his bedside cabinet. When he turned back around, he was holding something in his hand.

“What are you up to?” Bucky asked.

Steve looked nervous, he realised.

“I love you,” Steve began, “More than anything in the world. More than anyone I’ve ever met. But I also like you more than anyone I’ve ever met. When I tell the world that you’re my best friend, that’s not a lie. Because you are. You’re my best friend and the love of my life…” Steve revealed the ring sitting in the centre of his palm, “So will you marry me?”

Bucky blinked.

He stared at Steve and the ring and Steve again. He remembered seeing his arm for the first time, the moments where it didn’t feel real, where he couldn’t understand why his arm stopped just above his elbow before the truth sank in. He felt like that.

Then it hit him: Steve wanted to marry him.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” he breathed. “Yes. Yes, fuck, yes.”

Relief washed over Steve’s face, breaking into a grin and they surged forward. Bucky felt Steve slip the ring onto his finger and he grinned into the kiss.

“I know it’s the wrong hand,” Steve murmured, “But-“

“But I don’t give a shit,” Bucky interrupted. “Fuck, Steve. I love you.”

He pushed Steve onto his back, straddling his hips, and was about to kiss him, but then Bucky found himself getting distracted by the fact _there was a ring on his finger_. Steve’s ring. He stared at the gold, the way the light danced across it, as it stood out against his skin. When he finally managed to tear his gaze from the ring, Steve was staring up at him.

“We’re engaged,” Bucky whispered. The words sent a thrill through him. He buried his face in Steve’s neck and shouted, “We’re fucking engaged!”

Steve laughed beneath him, his arms wrapping around Bucky’s shoulders, and this, this was home.

X

As much as Bucky wanted to shout his engagement from the rooftops, he couldn’t. So he contented himself with grinning like a lunatic, especially whenever he looked at Steve. And at least he didn’t have to remove or hide his ring when he went out. On his right hand, it was considered the wrong hand in America, so no one thought anything of the simple gold band that adorned his ring finger. 

Steve was… unimpressed with being stuck at home while the rest of the Avengers were still deployed, so the wedding planning was a good distraction for him.

“Is this what it’s like for you every time I’m gone?” Steve frowned one afternoon. They were supposed to receive a call from Natasha, but for some reason, she didn’t make it. She emailed Bruce later, telling him that they’d been called out on a minor rescue and rescheduling for two days time, but Steve was still antsy. 

“Pretty much,” Bucky nodded.

He’d never appreciated what it must’ve been like for Jess in particular, watching him and Sharon and Nakia go off over the years, until he was discharged and Sharon was still deployed, and holy shit, being in the army was _really fucking dangerous_ he’d realised. 

“And I don’t even get the knock on the door if something happens to you,” Bucky added. “I have to wait for Tony or Pepper to call me.”

“Not for long,” Steve said, running his finger over Bucky’s ring. “The day we’re married, I’m changing my next of kin to you.”

“Day after,” Bucky corrected. He grinned wolf-like. “You’re gonna be busy that day. And that night.”

“I like this plan,” Steve murmured, brushing their lips together.

“Ew! Kissing in my kitchen! Nope, not okay!” Tony yelled.

Bucky flipped him off with a plastic finger. He’d worked hard to master that with his prosthetic.

Then, finally, the Avengers were home, hale and hearty, and then September arrived and Bucky started ticking off the days on the calendar. DADT ceased to exist on September 20th, and their wedding was on the 21st. They were wasting no time. 

Finally the twenty first arrived and Bucky packed his case into Steve’s Corvette Stingray to drive out to Steve and Tony’s place on Long island, where the rest of their friends were gathering for the wedding. 

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” Bucky informed Steve as he turned off of the highway.

“We are,” Steve grinned.

“Fuck, we’re getting married,” Bucky giggled.

“I know. Part of me never thought it would happen,” Steve admitted. “I thought I’d have to chose between marrying you and being in the Air Force. Not that there’s really any choice, but-“

“I get it,” Bucky assured him.

He did. If their positions were reversed, he absolutely would chose Steve over the army. But it would be difficult to deny that leaving the army to get married would’ve left him with a feeling of resentment. Not towards Steve, never to Steve, but towards the army and the government and the world at large, for refusing him the same rights as the heterosexual world just because he loved men instead of women. 

The Corvette’s tyres crushed over the gravel driveway.

“We’re getting married,” Bucky whispered. 

X

“And now, by the power invested in me by the state of New York, it is my honour and delight to declare you both married. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.”

Steve stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist and dipping him as the kissed to a cacophony of cheering and whistles, led by Clint and the Howlies. Bucky laughed as Steve put him back on his feet.

“Why do I get dipped like a girl?” he teased.

“You have the hair for it,” Steve replied, winding a strand on Bucky’s hair around his forefinger.

“True, but you scream when there’s a spider in the bath,” Bucky pointed out.

“It’s the legs,” Steve shuddered.

Bucky laughed, nipping at Steve’s lips.

“I vow to always rescue from the spiders in the tub,” he murmured. “Should’ve put that in my vows.”

“Definitely,” Steve grinned. 

Steve. His husband.

Bucky could get used to that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	7. Never grow up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky babysits some of the Avengers clan. He and Steve make a life changing decision.

**May 2012**

When the Avengers were sent off on a training mission in Nevada, Bucky happily volunteered to babysit for both Clint and Natasha, since Laura was on deployment and Bruce was at a science conference. Which meant that for four days, the apartment was full to bursting with Cooper, Lila, Nate, and Peter all staying over. It was noisy, busy, and completely insane.

Bucky loved it.

He grew up with four sisters. This was normal for him. 

“Alright,” Bucky shouted over the cacophony of noise. “Homework time. Nuh uh,” she shook his head when Lila and Cooper started to groan. “I got homework too kiddos, so get to it.”

“Uncle Bucky? I finished my homework yesterday,” Peter said.

“Great. Could you take Nate for a bath then?” Bucky asked.

“Sure,” Peter grinned.

“You’re awesome, kid,” Bucky told him. 

He rolled his eyes at Cooper and Lila’s put-upon expressions, remembering the days when that was his reaction to homework too. Hell, it was still his reaction some days, but Bucky was determined to get his degree. Retrieving his thermodynamics textbook, he joined the kids at the table and knuckled down, pausing only to help Cooper or Lila with any questions they had about their own work. 

Bucky’s phone vibrated against the kitchen counter. Leaning back, his chair on two legs, he snatched the phone, unlocking it to find a message from Steve.

_Finished early, on our way home. Clint + Nat asking if we’re okay to keep kids like planned? _

Bucky replied with an emphatic _Sure_, because he loved all his nieces and nephews.

_See you in five hours xx_

Bucky smiled, pocketing his phone as Nate barrelled into the room, freshly bathed and with Peter on his heels, looking like he was the one who’d been in the bath, clothes and all.

Bucky chuckled.

“Go dry off, Pete,” he said. “You two, finish up. I’m gonna start dinner. Who wants hot dogs?”

“Me!” Cooper and Lila chorused, bouncing in their chairs with their hands in the air. Seconds later, Nate shot his hands in the air too, copying his siblings eagerly.

“Alright,” Bucky grinned. He turned the TV onto Nick Jr for Nate, before moving into the kitchen. 

Once he’d dried off, Peter joined Bucky, hopping up onto one of the counter stools to watch him cook. 

“Here,” Bucky said, pushing a bread knife and the pile of rolls towards Peter. “Make yourself useful. Can you cut these for me Peter?”

“Sure,” Peter chirped. “Hey, did you see the SpaceX Dragon at the the ISS?”

They chatted about the SpaceX capsule docking with the ISS, then about the new Curiosity rover, until Bucky asked Peter to corral the troops and get them to the dining table.

“Here we go,” Bucky announced, placing the plates of hot dogs and rolls onto the table. “Dig in. There’s ketchup and mustard if you want.”

“Do you have mayo?” Cooper asked.

“Mayo?” Bucky echoed.

“Yes please,” Cooper nodded.

“Yeah!” Nate agreed.

“Alright.” Bucky returned to the kitchen, rooting through the fridge for the bottle of mayo. “Who puts mayo on a hot dog?” he muttered to Peter.

“I dunno.”

“Okay, mayo,” Bucky announced, handing over the bottle. He watched in horrified fascination as Cooper and Nate both drowned their hot dogs in mayo. “That’s so gross,” he mumbled, relieved to see that Lila at least was spreading mustard on her own hot dog like a normal person. Grabbing his phone, Bucky typed out _Mayo on hot dogs? Your kids are fucking weird_ and sent it to Clint.

After dinner, he send Cooper, Lila, and Peter to a bathroom each to take a bath or shower, while Nate decided that he wanted to help Bucky clear up. Nate picked up the plates from the table, one at a time, his little face scrunched up in concentration. Then Bucky balanced Nate on his hip so he could rinse the plates under the tap, before directing him on where to put them in the dishwasher. How one kid could get so much enjoyment from loading a dishwasher, Bucky wasn’t sure. But it was adorable to watch, and kept Nate entertained until the rest of the kids got back. 

“Uncle Bucky, can you comb my hair?” Lila asked, reappearing in pyjamas and carrying a comb.

“Sure thing. Sit down,” Bucky replied, pulling out a chair. He took the comb from her, and began teasing it though her hair, untangling the worst knots with his fingers before continuing. He remembered doing this to Indy when she was Nate’s age.

Fuck.

He really missed his baby sister.

The rest of his family, Bucky was and probably always would be angry with. His elder sisters didn’t have to cut all ties with him just because their mom decided to. They were adults and living on their own by that time. But instead, they dropped him like a stone, all because he wanted to join the army. Hell, May lived in Queens, and it wasn’t exactly a secret where he lived, considering he was married to Captain America, but she’d made no move to get in touch.

But Indy, his precious baby sister, Bucky could never blame her. She was too young to understand, and even if it was explained, she probably wouldn’t. She was innocent. Jesus, by now she would be an adult.

“There, all done,” Bucky announced, shaking himself free from his reverie. 

“Thank you!” 

The four kids piled onto the couch to watch _Cars 2_ while Bucky finished clearing up. When he was done, he noticed Nate dropping off against the arm of the sofa and smiled.

“Shh,” he murmured when Nate shifted as Bucky picked him up. Nate whined in protest, his head already falling onto Bucky’s shoulder as he fought in vain to stay away. Bucky motioned for Peter to turn the volume down a couple of notches, then began walking up and down the kitchen, humming _God help the outcasts_. Steve’s love of _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ had its uses. 

Nate was just dropping off when Bucky heard the click of the lock. He moved to the hall, to shush Steve before he said anything and woke Nate. When he saw Bucky and Nate, Steve’s eyes softened, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“Hi,” Steve whispered.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured, leaning in to press his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“Hey buddy,” Steve said, rubbing Nate’s cheek. “He’s pretty much out.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go put him down,” Bucky nodded. “Leftover hot dogs are in the kitchen. Kids are watching TV.”

“Cool,” Steve nodded, stealing another kiss. 

Bucky let himself into the smaller of the spare bedrooms, where Nate and Lila were set up, and eased Nate into bed. He tucked him in, brushing his dark curls from Nate’s face.

“Good night, little one,” Bucky whispered, kissing Nate’s temple. 

Returning to the living room, he found Steve standing in the kitchen, munching on one of the leftover hot dogs. Bucky moved to his side, but pushed Steve away when he tried to kiss him.

“Not when you’ve got half a hot dog in your mouth.”

Steve chuckled.

“Alright. I’m gonna finish this, then I need a shower real bad.”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything about the smell,” Bucky teased.

“Fuck you.”

Bucky stretched up onto his toes to smack a kiss against Steve’s cheek. 

“Not when we have the kids in the house,” he grinned. “Is it good or bad that you’re back early?”

“Good,” Steve swallowed. “Took way less time than they thought we would.”

“Fucking overachievers,” Bucky teased. “Alright, go shower,” he ordered, smacking Steve’s ass on his way out of the kitchen.

“Yes sir,” Steve saluted. 

Bucky flipped him off.

When Steve returned, hair still damp and smelling of Bucky’s body wash, Bucky pulled him onto his own armchair for the remainder of the movie. Steve obligingly swung his legs over Bucky’s thighs, leaning his shoulder against Bucky’s chest.

“Welcome home,” Bucky murmured, kissing his neck, one hand sliding up to tangle in the hair at the foot of Steve’s neck. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Steve replied, leaning into his embrace.

X

The next morning started with Cooper dipping Lila’s hair in peanut butter during breakfast, and Nate accidentally drinking Steve’s coffee and bouncing around the apartment on a caffeine high, so it was straight into the madness Bucky decided. 

“Cooper, time out,” Bucky shouted over Nate’s siren impression. “Lila, come with me. Steve, watch the fire engine.”

“Boys are stupid,” Lila declared, hopping up onto the edge of the tub, while Bucky ran a wash cloth under the tap.

“Boys are stupid,” Bucky agreed. “Trust me honey they don’t get any less stupid when they grow up either. Take my advice, lesbianism is the way forward. Just, you know, not until you’re like… forty. Okay, there you go, sweetheart. Just, maybe stay away from your brother until after breakfast?”

They returned to the kitchen, where Steve was waiting with a fresh mug of tea for Bucky and a shellshocked expression on his face. Bucky chuckled.

“Thanks honey,” he said, lifting the mug from Steve’s hand. 

“Is it always like this?”

“Ah, the face of an only child,” Bucky chuckled. “And yes, I’m aware you have a brother, but my point still stands. I once cut off my sister’s ponytail at breakfast.”

“Why?”

Bucky shrugged.

“It was a Tuesday.”

“How old were you?”

“Seventeen. What, you never wanted to dye Tony’s hair blue just for the hell of it?”

“No?”

Bucky snorted.

“Only child. Nate, put that down!”

By the time Natasha and Clint turned up to collect their respective children, Steve was sprawled across the couch, looking like he’d just finished a ten mile hike in the Afghani sun with a full pack.

“You okay there, buddy?” Bucky grinned.

“Children are exhausting,” Steve exclaimed.

Bucky chuckled. He toed off his sneakers, then climbed on top of Steve, tucking his head under Steve’s chin.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Still…”

Bucky folded his hands across Steve’s chest, propping his chin on his knuckles.

“Still what?”

Steve ran his hand through Bucky’s hair.

“When I came home last night and saw you with Nate… That was, uh… I can’t help thinking, what if that was our kid?”

“I think Clint and Laura might object.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve rolled his eyes, poking Bucky in the forehead. “Smart ass.”

Bucky grinned.

“Is that… Do you want kids?” Steve asked. 

“Yes,” Bucky replied. “I come from a big family, so when I pictured my family, yeah, there were always kids. Hmm, keep doing that,” he hummed as Steve carded his fingers through his hair. “That’s nice. You want kids?”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve said with a dopey grin. “Like marriage, I never really thought it would happen, but…”

“You’re gonna be a huge fucking sap again, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Totally. One hundred percent. I’ve got you, and now… I mean, it’s not like money’s a problem for us.”

“Oh really? You mean I can stop using newspaper as toilet paper?”

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“Steve, if you’re asking me if I wanna start a family with you,” Bucky said, “Then the answer is yes.”

“Yeah?” Steve grinned.

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, leaning down and nipping at Steve’s lips. “Let’s have a baby.”

X

“He’s hot,” Bucky observed, studying the picture on Nakia’s phone of her new boyfriend before passing it on to Sharon.

“Oh, he definitely is,” Sharon agreed. “Even _I_ can tell. He is super hot.”

“When do we get to meet him?” Bucky asked. “If this is getting serious, then he needs our approval, Nakia, you know that.”

“Soon,” she promised, taking back her phone with a small smile. 

Bucky bit his lip. She was serious about him, he realised.

"Where's Clint tonight?" Sharon frowned.

"He hooked up with a guy named Scott the night that Steve and I had the kids," Bucky explained. "They're going out again tonight. Or staying in. I'm not sure, and I don't wanna ask, because Clint seriously overshares."

Fuck. They were all growing up. Jess had Dani, Nakia was dating somebody she was serious enough about to consider introducing him to them, Clint was tentatively starting to date again for the first time since his divorce, Sharon introduced them to her girlfriend Carol last month - and Bucky would never let her live it down that she’d fallen for a pilot too - and now he and Steve were about to start trying for a baby. 

It seemed like only yesterday that they were downing shots until four am before stumbling into the nearest apartment and passing out together on the floor. 

He smiled.

Fuck, he loved these girls.

“I have an announcement,” he declared. Jess, Nakia and Sharon all turned to him expectantly. A frisson of nerves bubbled in his stomach, but mostly, all Bucky felt was excitement. “Steve and I are trying to have a baby.”

“Holy shit!” Jess exclaimed. 

“For real?” Nakia gasped.

“Yeah,” Bucky grinned. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

With a squeal, all there of them descended on him, piling on to hug him all at once. Bucky laughed, patting aimlessly at the nearest shoulder, unsure who it belonged to.

“How?” Sharon asked when they sat back. “Are you adopting? Surrogacy?”

“We talked about it, and we decided we wanted to try surrogacy first,” Bucky explained. “Not that we’re ruling out adoption, but yeah, surrogacy.”

“Do you have someone in mind?” Sharon asked.

“Not really,” Bucky shook his head. “I mean, it’s still early days.”

“If I was done with the army, I’d offer to do it,” Sharon shrugged apologetically. “But I’m getting ready to be deployed again, and I’m not ready to give that up yet.”

“That’s okay.”

“Next time,” Sharon promised.

A shiver of excitement ran down Bucky’s spine.

“Next time,” he agreed.

“I’ll do it,” Jess offered. “I mean, I’ve been pregnant before, so I know what to expect. And my pregnancy hormones were the best.”

“That is true,” Nakia recalled. “She smiled.”

“Yeah, and she didn’t threaten to kill anyone for six months,” Bucky teased, ducking the pillow Jess smacked him with. “Are you series, Jess?”

“Sure. Why not?” she shrugged. “You’re my best friend. And Steve’s okay, I guess,” she smirked. “Talk about it with him. You don’t have to decide right now. Just, you know, the offer’s there.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said sincerely. 

Jess smiled softly.

“You’re going to be a great dad,” she murmured. “I mean, everyone used to think you were Dani’s dad, except…”

“Except I’m not black?”

“Exactly.”

Bucky swallowed. The memories of helping Jess with baby Dani were some of the best memories of his life. And the thought of going through that again, of doing it with his own child, with Steve at his side… He instantly choked up.

Shit. 

This was _real_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd headcanoned Sharon/Carol being a thing in this verse waaaaay before Captain Marvel came out and I fell in love with Carol/Maria, but they still exist, mostly because I love the idea of Bucky and Sharon both ending up with Air Force pilots.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	8. I've been waiting for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve leaves for a three months tour, and Bucky is left facing a future very different from the one he envisioned.
> 
> **Marvel Bingo 2019 - Body Sharing**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERY WARNINGS: panic attacks, grieving, brief mention of pregnancy as a result of rape.

**August 2013**

“I’m gonna miss you,” Bucky mumbled into Steve’s collar, tightening his stranglehold on Steve’s neck.

“I’ll miss you too,” Steve murmured, kissing behind Bucky’s ear.

Bucky breathed in, memorising every last detail of his husband before he left - again - for three months, after which Steve would be home and their daughter would make her entrance into the world. Reluctantly he stepped back, swiping away the stray tears with his knuckle. 

“Take care of yourself, you hear?” Bucky ordered, his voice shaking a little. “There’s a little lady waiting to meet you, so. Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to meet her too,” Steve smiled. “You’ll email me with the news from Jessica’s next appointment.”

Bucky nodded, no longer trusting himself to speak. He stepped back to allow Tony to hug Steve and say his own goodbyes.

It felt strange, being at the airbase to say goodbye to the Avengers and knowing that he wasn’t heading out on deployment himself. It always did, every time Steve had been deployed since their marriage and Bucky could see Steve off without outing them both. Even four years later, part of him still expected to head off with Sharon and the rest of the Howlies. He’d probably always feel that way, he figured. 

When Tony was done, his own eyes red and his jaw tight, Bucky moved in for one final hug. He caught Steve’s chin, twisting it round so he could kiss him, one last time. They both lingered, loathe to pull away, until they had to.

“Bye,” Bucky whispered.

“I’ll see you soon,” Steve promised. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah.”

Bucky joined Tony and Bruce to watch the Avengers load onto their plane. Right before he ducked onboard, Steve paused, turned, and blew a kiss towards Bucky.

“Fucking sap,” Bucky laughed wetly. 

He was pretty sure Steve could read his lips, because he grinned, before disappearing into the back of the plane. 

“Never gets easier, does it?” Bruce remarked.

“Nope,” Tony agreed.

“Definitely not,” Bucky nodded.

“Alright, who’s up for heading back to my place and eating our own body weight in Chinese food?” Tony clapped his hands together.

“Make it Thai, and you’ve got a deal,” Bruce replied. 

“I’m in,” Bucky agreed. 

They watched the plane as it sped along the runway, and stared after it long after it became a tiny dot in the sky.

“Three months,” Bucky muttered to himself, following Tony back to his car. “It’s only three months.”

X

**October 2013**

“What the fuck, Ikea?” Bucky grumbled, glaring at the instructions which were, frankly, good for nothing, before turning his gaze to the various pieces that - allegedly - would go together to make his baby’s crib.

Allegedly being the key word, because honestly? Bucky was beginning to seriously doubt that it would go together at all. 

“You can assemble a rifle in under six second. You can do this,” Bucky told himself, grabbing the screwdriver and the closest piece of the crib. He was engaged in battle, and he would win. Nothing would distract him, not even the ringing of his cell phone. Quickly glancing at the screen before jamming the phone between his shoulder and chin, Bucky grunted, “Hey Tony. You ever put a crib together? Because this thing is a bastard. Tony?”

The silence on the other end of the phone was loaded and heavy.

Bucky paused, foreboding settling in his gut. 

“Tony?”

“Bucky…”

Tony’s voice was thick and Bucky just _knew_.

“Tell me he’s alive,” he begged, closing his eyes.

“It was an ambush. IED and mortars. Steve’s missing.”

“Tell me he’s alive,” Bucky repeated, the screwdriver falling out of his hand. "Come on, Tony, please. He can’t die. He can’t. We’re having a baby.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Tony cried, and he was crying now too, Bucky could hear it. “Bucky, I can’t find him.”

“You gotta.”

And Bucky was aware how childish he sounded, but he didn’t give a shit, not when Steve was… was… No. He wasn’t… wasn’t anything, not until they had proof of, of whatever had happened.

“I don’t think I can,” Tony whispered.

Bucky let out a sound like a wounded animal, curling in on himself, and shook his head. His free hand clutched at his hair, pulling so tightly that pain erupted across his skull. But he didn’t stop. His body wracked with sobs, and on the other end of the line he could hear Tony crying too.

Then he heard the murmur of voices, and then Pepper’s voice came onto the line.

“Bucky? I need you to hang up so I can look after Tony. Is there anyone you can call?” she asked.

Bucky shook his head. He wanted his mom, but that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Bucky? I need you to answer me?”

“I don’t have anybody else,” he wailed. 

“What about Nakia?” Pepper suggested, and he could tell she was crying too. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to call Jess and Dani.”

“Yeah, I’ll call her,” Bucky lied, knowing full well that Nakia was in Washington DC. 

He hung up. 

Then he picked up the screwdriver and launched it into the wall with a scream.

X

Bucky couldn’t sleep. He wandered the apartment like a ghost until eventually, finally, his body had enough and he passed out with exhaustion. It wasn’t healthy, and it definitely wasn’t smart, but Steve was missing and no one knew where he was or if he was okay, and Bucky didn’t know what the hell to do because they were about to have a baby for fucks sake. Steve was supposed to come home and be there with him, they were supposed to raise their baby together.

He called Bruce in the morning realising that Tony had failed to mention the other Avengers when he told him that Steve was gone. Bucky hoped that no news was good news.

“Minor injuries,” Bruce assured him, his own voice sounding thick. “Clint has a broken clavicle, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder, and possible hearing damage, and still he wants to go out and join the search. Nat had him sedated.”

Normally the image of a bruised and battered Clint Barton determinedly trying to leave the hospital to go back into combat would’ve drawn a smile to Bucky’s face. 

Not now.

“Is Nat okay?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah. Cuts and bruises mostly,” Bruce explained. “She’s taking it hard though. Blames herself.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not her fault,” Bucky replied, but the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. “We al knew what we signed up for. Well, you didn’t. But we all volunteered.”

“Yeah,” Bruce sighed.

“How’s Peter?” 

“Not good,” he admitted. 

Bucky swallowed. Steve was as much a dad to Peter as Bruce was. And with his mother gone too, there was no way this could be easy for the teenager. 

“Tony had to be sedated last night,” Bruce added.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathed.

“They’ve been together since they were kids. Tony was eight when his parents adopted Steve. The longest they’ve been without contact was when Tony was kidnapped.”

“And then Steve saved him,” Bucky finished.

And Tony didn’t know if he could find Steve.

Fuck. 

Bucky wanted to fall into bed and forget about the world. Or smash the hell out of something for a few hours. But that wouldn’t help find Steve, and it certainly wouldn’t help anyone else. 

He swallowed.

“Alright, I’ll be over in an hour,” he announced. “I need to shower, and get some clean clothes, then I’ll be on my way. I’ll get some food on the way.”

“You don’t have to do that, Bucky,” Bruce posted out.

“No. But I want to,” Bucky replied.

Steve was the leader of the Avengers. Their care was his responsibility. Their families were Bucky’s responsibility. Or they were now. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he added, before hanging up. 

After a quick shower to wash away the grime and fresh clothes, Bucky tied his hair back in a half bun before grabbing his phone, wallet and keys, and headed for the door. He called Jess while he walked to the subway, checking in on her and Dani and the baby.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” Bucky replied with surprising certainty. 

“Call me as soon as you know anything,” Jess demanded.

“I will,” he promised. “Can you call Nakia, let her know?”

“Sure. Take care of yourself.”

“I will. Hey Jess? I love you.”

“Love you too dumbass.”

Bucky grinned.

It would’ve been easy to pick up takeout and that would’ve been that. But Bucky knew that wasn’t what they needed. What they needed was comfort. So he went to the nearest store to the tower, picking up the ingredients for meatloaf, before heading up to his and Steve’s apartment. He sent a message to Bruce, telling him to bring Peter down, then rode the elevator up to Tony and Pepper’s floor and knocked on the door.

“Bucky?” Pepper blinked at him.

“Hey, how’s Tony?”

“Not great. What are you doing here?”

“I’m gonna make something for us to eat,” he explained. “I’ll take Harley, if you like. Bruce and Peter are on their way to my floor. Give you a break.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, and he did. They didn’t expect anything of him. “But I want to.”

“Alright,” Pepper nodded. “I’ll send Harley down.”

Before she closed the door, Bucky stepped forward and hugged her. 

“How are you?” he whispered.

“It’s hard,” she admitted. “Seeing him like this.”

Bucky kissed her temple.

“If you need a break, call me. You can come down and I’ll take a spell with him. We’ll get through this Pepper.”

“I hope so,” she nodded with a watery smile.

Bucky squeezed her shoulder.

Bruce and Peter were already in the apartment when he returned. Bucky hugged Peter, kissing the top of his head and murmuring, “It’s okay, kid.” Bruce gave Bucky a quick hug, and they shared a nod. Bucky had never really appreciated what it must be like for the families left behind until he was the one left behind. 

The elevator dinged, then Harley shuffled into the room, his eyes rimmed with red and his chin jutting out defiantly.

“Hey kid,” Bucky smiled. He didn’t hug him, because he could see that wasn’t what Harley wanted right now. “Wanna help me cook?”

Harley nodded, unusually silent. But the set of his shoulders screamed _leave me alone!_ and Bucky wasn’t about to push him. Bucky remembered seeing his mom in the aftermath of her assault, discovering she was pregnant, and the horror and confusion he felt upon seeing her so distressed. He didn’t understand what was wrong, just that something was, and it terrified him. He knew what Harley was going through. So he drew him into the kitchen, giving him simple tasks and instructions, carefully pulling him out of himself. 

Bruce perched on a stool at the counter so he could join in the conversation, and eventually Peter drifted over too. Soon the smell of cooking filled the apartment, bringing simple comfort to all of them. Bucky sent a message to Laura, telling her that she and the kids were welcome at any time. She replied thanking him, but they were at her parents waiting to call Clint. She promised to pass on any news. 

“This is really good, uncle Bucky,” Harley mumbled once they were all sitting at the table.

“Yeah, well I had expert help,” Bucky grinned, ruffling Harley’s hair which earned him a glare. Never had Bucky been so glad to be glared at. 

“It’s good,” Peter agreed. “Thanks guys.”

“No problem, Pete. Right, Harley?”

“Yeah,” Harley shrugged. 

Bruce met Bucky’s eyes across the table and mouthed Thank you. 

Bucky nodded.

After dinner, he told the boys to do the dishes, knowing it would be the perfect distraction. He left bruce supervising, and took two plates up to Tony and Pepper.

“He’s asleep,” Pepper murmured when she let him in. Bucky put the plates in the kitchen. “Passed out about twenty minutes ago. If I’m lucky he’ll sleep for another ten.”

“Come here,” Bucky sighed, gathering her into his arms. “It’s okay Pepper. You don’t have to be strong for me. It’s okay.”

Her shoulders began to shake, then she buried her face into his neck and sobbed. Quietly. Thinking about Tony even now. Bucky held her tight, one hand in his hair and the other rubbing up and down her spine soothingly. He lost track of how long they stood there, holding each other, only breaking apart when they heard Tony’s footsteps.

“Hey,” Bucky called.

“What are you doing here?” Tony frowned.

“I made dinner,” Bucky shrugged. “Harley and I made dinner,” he corrected. “He’s down with Bruce and Peter in my place,” he added when Tony automatically searched for his son. 

Tony opened his mouth to say something, no doubt about how Bucky didn’t need to do this, but was cut off by Bucky’s cell phone. 

“Hey Jess,” Bucky answered the call. 

“Bucky, I need you not to panic,” Jess said carefully in lieu of greeting.

“That doesn’t make me not want to panic,” he pointed out.

Jess took a deep breath, then announced, “I’m in labour.”

“Shit,” Bucky sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Since when?”

“Last night,” she admitted. “But we’re getting to the point of no return.”

“Alright. That’s fine, we can do this,” he said, and to his surprise, he meant it. There was fuck all he could do to change it anyway. “I’ll come get you, we can drop Dani off at the tower, then we’ll go to the hospital, yeah?”

“We might need to go to the hospital first.”

“I’ll take Happy,” Bucky said, looking at Pepper questioningly. “I’ll be over in fifteen.”

“See you soon.”

“Jess is in labour,” he explained as he hung up. “Can Happy take us to the hospital and then take Dani back here?”

“Of course,” Pepper nodded.

“Great. Tony, there’s food in the kitchen. Eat it all. You’re no help to anyone if you pass out. Harley’s fine with Bruce and Peter so don’t worry. I’ll tell him to expect Dani too. I’ll call you to keep you updated.”

“Yes sir,” Tony nodded, and Bucky realised that he’d taken command of the situation. 

Well, Steve wasn’t here to take command.

“See you later,” he waved.

Dropping into his own apartment for his shoes, Bucky explained the situation to Bruce, who instantly agreed to watching Dani, then made his way down the the garage where Happy was waiting for him.

“Hey Happy, thank for doing this,” Bucky called.

“No problem,” Happy replied.

“Alright, let’s go have a baby.”

X

“You okay?” Bucky asked, squeezing Jess’ hand.

“Considering I’m about to push a baby out of me, yeah, I’m okay,” she shrugged. “I feel like I should be asking you that though.”

“I’m…” Bucky swallowed. “Whatever happened to Steve, there’s nothing I can do about it,” he said. “I can do something here. I can make sure my family is okay.”

“You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes.”

“Don’t let it get out,” he grinned.

They both looked up at the knock on the door. Bucky blinked in surprise when he found Tony standing there, showered and shaved and looking more like himself.

“Thought you might like some company,” Tony shrugged awkwardly. “I mean, I know I’m not-“

“Get in here, you asshole,” Bucky grinned. He stood up to hug Tony. “You’re family. That means you’re always welcome.”

“Yeah. Join the party,” Jess deadpanned. “It’s gonna be great.”

Tony glanced between them, but Bucky assured him, “I’ve been through labour with her before. She does this.”

“Last time was worse because I didn’t know what was coming,” Jess added.

“I would’ve thought it was the other way around,” Tony said. 

“Don’t try to apply logic to Jessica Jones,” Bucky warned him. 

"hey, I'm just looking forward to no longer sharing my body with this interloper," Jess declared, poking his stomach.

It wasn’t the same as sharing the birth of their child with Steve, but Bucky was glad for Tony’s company. He ran down to the cafeteria for coffee, and then when the cafeteria coffee turned out to be tasteless swill, he found a cafe down the street and made coffee runs throughout the night, meaning that Bucky never had to leave Jess unless she asked him to. 

“Thanks,” Bucky said, stepping outing the hall and taking the proffered coffee from Tony.

“How is the, uh, miracle of childbirth?” Tony grimaced. “That stuff is nasty.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed. He remembered his own discomfort back when Dani was born. “Won’t be long now.”

“How are you keeping it together?” Tony wondered.

“I coulda fallen apart,” Bucky shrugged. “But it wouldn’t change anything. But being there, helping you guys, that makes a difference. And as much as I hate to admit it,” he said, his throat aching and his vision blurring, “It’s starting to feel like a very real possibility that I’m going to be doing this without Steve. I’m not giving up on him, but I gotta be prepared for that.” 

“I couldn’t do what you’re doing,” Tony admitted.

“That’s okay,” Bucky smiled, wiping away his tears. “You know, our relationship, that’s not the best thing Steve’s given me. The best thing he’s given me is his family. My family. When I imagine a future without Steve, I’m not alone. There’s you and Pepper and Harley. And Nat and Bruce and Peter. And Clint and Laura and all their kids. And Sam and Thor and Jane and Jess and Dani. And Nakia and Sharon and all the Howlies. I don’t wanna be without him, but I’m not gonna be alone.”

Tony ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide the tears pouring down his face. Bucky reached out, tugging him into his side, before throwing caution into the wind and hugging him.

“You’re stuck with me,” he murmured. “I love you, Tony Stark.” 

“Fuck you for making me cry,” Tony gasped. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

X

Bucky held it together until his daughter was placed in his arms, at which point, he burst into tears.

“Hi,” he whispered. “Hi sweetheart. Oh, look at you. Damn, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

Then, once Jess was asleep and Tony left to go home and get some sleep of his own - confident for the first time since they got the news that he could sleep soundly - Bucky sat alone, staring down at his baby girl in his arms, unable to tear his gaze away for even a second. 

“You should be here,” Bucky murmured. “Dammit Steve, you’re supposed to be here. We were supposed to do this together. You would love her. I know it. She’s so perfect, I can’t believe it. I can’t believe she’s here.”

He looked up at the faint rap on the door.

His throat went dry.

It was Phillips. His old CO. With another officer.

Bucky knew.

But then Phillips shook his head.

“We found him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have gone back and forth so many times over the past few days. Steve was supposed to die, but when it came down it it, I just couldn't do it. 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


	9. My Love My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A homecoming.

**November 2013**

“Are ready honey?” Bucky cooed, lifting Maya up from her changing table. “Yeah? Big day today, huh? You get to meet your papa finally.”

Maya blew bubbles between her lips and Bucky’s heart melted for what was probably the two hundred and seventy first time since his daughter was born. He chuckled, settling her against his chest and bouncing her gently before tucking her into the pram. 

They’d decided that Tony would go to Germany to meet Steve. Bucky thought that Tony needed to see Steve more than he did, while Bucky needed to be with Maya. So Tony flew to Landstuhl, after being sworn to secrecy about Maya’s birth. Bucky had talked to Steve on the phone and FaceTime, the sight of Steve’s tired face causing him to burst into tears and call Steve a _Goddamned motherfucking dipshit_. 

Now, Steve was finally back in the US in Walter Reed, and Bucky and Maya came down to the Washington DC apartment in preparation while Tony headed home to his family. 

“Alright baby girl,” Bucky murmured. “Let’s go.” 

When they arrived at the base, Bucky took the shuttle to building nineteen, pausing in the vestibule to remove Maya’s jacket before she could overheat, then pushed her through the corridors to the orthopaedics ward. He asked at the nurse’s station for Steve’s room, thanking them, before moving quietly into the room. 

Steve was asleep.

Bucky kicked the brake onto the pram, then unclipped the harness, lifting Maya out carefully.

“Shh,” he whispered when she stirred. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Carefully, he laid Maya on Steve’s chest, keeping his hand under her butt so she was supported, before shaking Steve’s shoulder. Steve stirred, a quiet throat emitting from his throat, then blinked slowly, one hand automatically coming up to rest on Maya’s back. Then he spotted Maya and his eyes snapped open.

“What?” he choked.

“Hey,” Bucky grinned.

Steve glanced at Bucky, before returning to stare openmouthed at Maya. 

“Maya?” he whispered. “But, I don’t understand? When?”

“Twentieth of October at sixty forty three am,” Bucky replied. 

Steve drew a ragged breath, his eyes filling with tears, and shifted to hold Maya more securely, without Bucky’s help. 

“Oh God. She is perfect,” he gasped. 

“Isn’t she?” Bucky grinned.

“Hi. Hey,” Steve laughed, and now the tears were falling freely down his face. “Hi Maya. Hi baby girl. Oh God. Bucky, I…”

“I know,” Bucky murmured. He perched on the edge of the bed, sliding his arm around Steve’s shoulders and squeezing him tight. He kissed Steve’s temple. “I know.”

“Holy shit,” Steve whimpered. “We’re fathers. Bucky, we have a baby.”

“I noticed,” he chuckled. He leaned down and whispered in Steve’s ear, “If you scare me like that again, I will kill you myself, do you understand?”

“I’m never leaving you two again,” Steve promised. “I don’t think I could even if I tried. How is it possible that I love her this much already?”

“It’s ‘cause she’s ours,” Bucky smiled. 

“Ours,” Steve echoed.

X

**December 2013**

“You know, I never thought I’d miss Afghanistan, but you what honey? I really fucking miss Afghanistan. I mean, the sand was a pain in the ass - literally - and the the being blown up and kidnapped really sucked balls. But damn, at least it was warm,” Bucky declared, pushing Maya into the apartment. “And there was no stinky grey slush everywhere.”

“No, there were just IEDs lying around, waiting to blow you up,” Steve called.

“Looks like uncle Tony brought your papa home from the hospital,” Bucky said. He unclipped the harness, zipping her out of her snow suit, and lifting her out of the pram. “Yeah? Ready to go say welcome home to papa?” 

Maya blinked up at him. Bucky rubbed his cheek against her hair, breathing in the sweet smell that all babies seemed to have, walking further into the apartment. He broke into a smile as soon as he saw Steve sitting on the sofa, his crutches at one side, and something inside him fixed itself at the sight of all three of them back in New York. 

Where they belonged.

“Hey you,” Bucky called.

“Hi,” Steve grinned. “Hey Maya.”

Bucky handed her over. He would never get used to how amazing it was to see Steve holding their daughter. And the fact that, for an oh-so brief but oh-so painful time, he’d believed that he would never see it, just made it all the more wonderful that he had the chance now. He leaned down to brush a kiss against Steve’s forehead.

“You hungry?” he murmured.

“Yeah, a little,” Steve nodded, without looking away from Maya. 

“Alright. You watch the munchkin, I’ll make dinner.”

Bucky moved into the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder regularly to watch Steve and Maya, reluctant to turn away incase he missed anything.

“We’re gonna have to get a tree,” he called. “I was thinking about dragging Sam with me to get one next week, what d’you think?”

“Sounds good,” Steve replied. “Have you started shopping for this one yet?”

“A little. Although I’m not gonna lie, I think Tony’s buying her half of Manhattan. She is gonna be so spoiled.”

“Oh yeah,” Steve agreed. “Guess we’re just gonna have to get her a brother or sister to bring her back down to earth.”

“She’s two months old, Rogers,” Bucky grinned. “It’s kinda early to be thinking about having another one.”

“I don’t know,” Steve mused. “Start planning now and we’ll definitely be ready.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He wouldn’t deny it though, growing their family was something he was definitely interested in. In the future. Way in the future. When Maya was sleeping through the night and Steve was officially no longer in the air force. 

Once the pasta was bubbling in the pot, Bucky paused, leaning on the island countertop to watch Steve and Maya, and to marvel at how much his life had changed in the past four years.

Four years ago, he was living in barracks and considered Sharon, Jess, Dani and Nakia to be his only family. Now, he lived in a penthouse apartment overlooking Manhattan, and he had more family than he knew what to do with. He’d never realised how fucking empty his life used to be, until it became so full of life. Of children and laughter, of friendship, of brotherhood, of love. So much love. And idiots, so much fucking idiots, none of whom Bucky ever wanted to live without.

And none as much as the idiot sitting on the couch holding their daughter.

“What?” Steve asked, breaking Bucky out of his reverie.

“Nothing,” Bucky shook his head. “Just thinking.”

“Careful, don’t hurt yourself,” Steve warned.

“Fuck you, asshole,” Bucky laughed, shaking his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” Steve grinned.

Maya shifted in his arms, babbling softly.

“What’s that, honey?” Steve asked.

“She says welcome home,” Bucky said.

Steve smiled at him, his eyes softening, and Bucky had never felt more loved.

“It’s good to be home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That image of Steve waking to Maya on his chest in the hospital is what swayed me into keeping Steve alive. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading! 
> 
> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Tumblr as [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com) so feel free to come and chat.


End file.
